


leave the light on

by andsmile



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, F/M, Multi, Varchie!Centric, a bunch of minor ships as well, cheesy and tropey, everyone shows up at some point - Freeform, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsmile/pseuds/andsmile
Summary: This is a tale of two people, destiny, love, music... and really bad timing!or, an archieronnie AU based on the movie, "A Lot Like Love".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> surprise, maybe? lol! i challenged myself into writing a varchie one-shot based on one of my favorite romcoms of all time, _a lot like love_, but y'all know me, so the one-shot turned into a two-shot lol, and here we are.
> 
> this is based on the movie, with some changes here and there to fit our faves better (eternally grateful for my wifey AK for brainstorming about it with me), and i'm pleased with how it turned out. _a lot like love_ is such an underrated romcom! but, if by any chance, you haven't watched it yet, i say you finish the fic first so you won't be spoiled lol.
> 
> also, i initially wrote this fic to dedicate it to milly and leah, but i ended up finishing it on the day of emily's birthday, so yay? three dedications now! milly and leah for always supporting my work with the best of feedback, and emily for her birthday! love you girls!
> 
> as usual, thanks to my girl nic for beta-ing. more notes at the end.

**( 18 )**

_I want something else to get me through this  
_ _semi-charmed kind of life, baby_

Archie’s leg shakes in excitement when the car pulls up at the O’Hare airport departures drop-off.

“Do you have everything you need, son? ID, keys, flight ticket, phone?”

“Yep.” Archie rubs his palms on his jeans. He can’t wait to get out of the car, check-in, and get on his flight already. Six months after he has graduated high school, this trip will be the start of something new. He can feel it.

“Phone charger?”

Archie looks over at his father, who looks somewhat concerned and even a little forlorn. It makes him laugh. “I’m alright, dad. You don’t have to worry. I’m only going to New York for a week.”

Fred sighs. Archie thinks it’s funny, but he also gets it — this is the first time his parents are letting him, their only child, fly alone. But if everything goes according to plan, they’ll have to get used to it — it’s better if they start now. Plus, he’s eighteen now, so no more excuses about being underage.

“Okay, kiddo. Call me as soon as you land and send Jughead my best,” his dad says. “And don’t forget to have some fun.”

He smiles. They hug briefly before Archie gets out of the car, taking his duffel bag and his guitar case from the trunk. He waves to his dad and waits for him to drive away.

Archie inhales deeply, wanting to taste _freedom_ on the back of his tongue, but ends up only tasting _smoke_. He coughs, turning around to see a girl smoking a cigarette while leaning against a pillar.

She’s incredibly beautiful with onyx black hair that's around chin length, wearing something that looks like an oversized grey t-shirt paired with high-heeled thigh-high boots and a leather jacket. Her t-shirt stops a palm before her boots start, showing quite a bit of skin. Archie can’t really see her face behind the sunglasses, but he does like the shape of her mouth and the berry lipstick staining the cigarette.

He probably stares at her for a moment too long — and she must notice it — because she tilts her head up and zeroes in on his face, pushing her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and arching one eyebrow.

“If you take a picture it'll last longer,” she says.

Archie feels his cheeks on fire. He clears his throat and _would _rub the back of his neck if only he didn’t have his hands full. However, when his gaze lands on a sign placed right above her, he finds the perfect excuse. That’s what he calls a stroke of luck.

“You shouldn’t be smoking here.” He nods at the _no-smoking_ sign. She looks up, then back at him, and scoffs. Archie feels a smile tugging at his lips before heading through the airport door.

Checking in and going through security takes a while, but soon Archie is waiting at the flight’s designated gate. He gets a Mountain Dew from a vending machine and settles in an empty seat, fishing his phone out of his pocket so he can text Jughead, his childhood best friend who now lives in New York City while attending NYU.

Jughead’s last text is just instructions on how to get from JFK to Lower Manhattan, where they’re supposed to meet in a few hours. Archie lets him know that he’s waiting for the flight to depart and sends a bunch of party-hat emojis to show his enthusiasm. He hasn’t seen Jughead ever since they graduated from high school, and he's never been to New York.

He quickly gets an answer — one eye-rolling emoji — and chuckles at it, because that means Jughead is excited to see him too. He was always a bit of a weirdo.

Archie lifts up his head when he hears someone chuckling too. To his surprise, it’s the same girl who he was not-really-but-kind-of checking out outside. She’s sitting right across from him and she was — apparently — laughing at the magazine on her lap.

He can’t help but stare at her again. She’s even prettier now that he can see her whole face since her hair is pushed back by her sunglasses on the top of her head. He likes her style, the way she wears bold makeup, and how her nails are painted black. She was kinda rude to him outside but… Well, she’s really hot.

For a moment, he wonders if she’s sitting there because they’re on the same flight. Then, he quickly shakes his head — _duh_. That’s dumb. What other reason would she have?

Archie glances down at his phone again, wondering if he should say something else to Jughead — something like _so there’s this girl and she’s on my flight _— but his friend would only say something like_ you watch too many movies_. Realizing that this might be true, Archie just gets his headphones and starts listening to music, trying not to continuously steal glances at her.

Except, he fails. And, one time, she ends up catching his eyes.

This time there’s no sign to save his ass. Instead of looking away, she shoots him a very tiny crooked smile, and his entire face probably turns pink. Archie fiddles with the phone in his hand, pretending to check something out on the screen so he can look down, but he still feels her gaze is on him.

When he looks back at her, her hands are up as if she was holding an imaginary camera. Archie half-frowns, half-smiles when she pretends to take a picture of him, her finger hitting a “button” in the air.

A voice suddenly blares through the overhead speakers, announcing that boarding will begin and that _One World members _are the first to be welcomed aboard. The girl gets up almost immediately, throwing him a smile over her shoulder before heading to the counter.

He sees her again when he walks onto the aircraft. She’s sitting in one of the first rows with better seats, back to reading her magazine. She doesn’t even look when he passes by her.

Archie’s seat is almost at the back of the airplane. He helps one lady put her bag in the overhead compartment, keeps his own bag and his guitar case there too, and plops himself down in the aisle seat, headphones still on his ears.

The flight from Chicago to New York isn't too long — only two hours.

Archie eats complimentary peanuts the flight attendant offers. She also gives him a plastic cup with ice for his soda, and he’s pouring it into the cup when the person in front of him reclines their seat.

“Shit!” Archie swears when the cup tips over, spilling icy green soda all over his white t-shirt. The flight attendant fusses over him, handing him some napkins. “It’s okay. I’ll clean this up,” he says, taking the napkins but knowing that they’re not enough — he doesn’t want to look like Hulk when he gets to New York. And fuck, he needs to wash this before it stains — he didn’t bring many clothes.

Sighing, Archie gets up and fumbles around his duffel bag to get a clean t-shirt. He’s about to walk to the restroom in the back of the plane and change when an old man manages to get there first. The flight attendant looks at him with pitiful eyes and tells him that he’s allowed to use the restrooms in the front, asking if he needs more help.

He says no and then walks the length of the entire plane, walking through the curtains that separate coach from premium class. It’s not until he sees the girl again — this time, very much aware that he’s passing by — that he remembers he looks like an idiot, with a green stain on his wet shirt, carrying a stack of napkins, and a spare t-shirt.

Archie hears stifled laughter coming from her. He clenches his jaw. _Really funny_.

He walks into the cramped restroom, locking the door so the lights turn on and sighing repeatedly as he removes his shirt and takes a minute to wonder how he’s going to clean up the mess.

A knock comes at the door.

“Occupied,” he says gruffly.

“I’m just checking if you need anything, sir,” the flight attendant’s voice comes through the door.

Archie, who needs laundry detergent, just says that he’s fine as he tries to wash out the stain on his t-shirt with water, which only runs for a few seconds, and hand-soap. He hasn’t even figured out how he’ll get his t-shirt to dry after this, when another knock echoes in the tiny bathroom.

He sighs and rolls his eyes as he undoes the lock and slides it open. “I said I’m—”

He’s cut off by berry lips smiling at him. Suddenly, the girl he was ogling before kisses him so hard that he doesn’t have much time to understand what’s going on, only that she’s pushing him back into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

_Wow._

It’s the only word in his mind when he walks back to his seat, ten minutes later, a damp, and still very much stained, t-shirt crumpled in his fist.

It’s not like he’s a virgin — if the last ten minutes of his senior prom night, or the three times he and Josie McCoy fooled around during the summer, have something to say about it — but he definitely never had… well, _that_.

_That_, as in a gorgeous stranger biting his lower lip and coaxing her tongue into his mouth or running her hands down his stomach into his pants. He got hard almost immediately when she touched him, and next thing he knew, he was grasping the back of her thighs and hauling her onto the sink.

Things happened fast, a blur of tongue, teeth, hair, and hands. They only exchanged words when she asked if he had a condom (which he obviously didn’t) and then, almost annoyed, said that _she _had one. She sank her nails into his back when he slid into her and her moans, low and muffled, were probably what drove him insane.

She guided his hand and showed him how to touch her, and soon they were both a breathy mess. Then, after some seconds regaining her composure, she fixed her hair and her lipstick, only glancing at him with a smirk before leaving him alone.

Archie sits down again, completely stupefied. A smile creeps onto his lips as butterflies start to flutter in his stomach. The only proof that what happened really did happen and was not a crazy airplane dream, is that he’s wearing a different t-shirt.

_Wow._

Throughout the rest of his flight, Archie makes peace with the fact that Pretty Girl will leave the airplane first and that they’ll probably never see each other again. However, when they land in New York and he’s about to leave through the doors of baggage claim — he doesn’t have any checked bags, anyway — he finds her, waiting by one belt.

She looks even better than before, if that’s possible. There’s also a small bruise on her left thigh that he’s pretty sure might be his doing. It makes him smile, a bit sheepish, and he decides that it won’t hurt anyone if he says _hello_ or asks for her name. Maybe her number.

He walks towards her, adjusting his duffel bag strap on his shoulder. Pretty Girl kinks up one eyebrow when she realizes he’s approaching her.

“Don’t,” she says when he opens his mouth.

“Don’t, what?” Archie’s eyebrows fly to his hairline.

“You’ll ruin it.”

The way she says it is quite cold, but he doesn’t really let her glare intimidate him, because it’s not like she’s _not _interested. “I’m Archie,” he says, giving her his best smile. He swears he sees the corner of her lips trembling.

“See? It’s ruined.”

He chuckles. “What’s ruined?”

“Our little secret.” She glances down at the watch on her wrist, and Archie’s mind wanders to how amazing her mouth felt when she kissed him an hour ago. It makes him press his lips together, suppressing a smile.

“Actually, I think the flight attendant was kind of onto us, so…”

“Oh well,” she almost smiles too, the tiniest of grins, “she’ll have to be killed.”

Archie laughs then, maybe a bit too hard, but he doesn’t really care. Pretty Girl spots her luggage coming towards her because she takes one step closer to the belt. He follows her. “I’m Archie. Andrews.”

“That’s what you keep saying,” she says, taking the bag from the belt before Archie can even try to help her.

“Woah. You don’t make it easy for a guy, do you?”

She really smiles then, laughs even. It makes her look a hundred times more beautiful. Archie knows that she’s laughing _at him, _but he _also _can’t find it in himself to care. “I think I made it pretty easy for you back there, Archie Andrews.”

She starts to walk towards the exit door, rolling her luggage. Archie doesn’t _know _if he should follow, but he _is _going in the same direction.

They eventually fall into step together. She keeps throwing him glances, and it makes him brave enough to continue his attempt at a conversation. He lists, in his mind, what he knows about her: she smokes, reads magazines, and knows what she wants. Oh, she’s also a _One World member_.

“So, first-class, huh?” he asks but feels stupid as soon as he does. Maybe he should’ve talked about the magazine. “You travel a lot and get points?”

“What? Are we friends now?”

Archie can’t help but smirk, thinking about her nails on his back. “I’d say we’re a little bit more than that.”

This seems to get her attention. She looks him up and down, another smile tugging at her lips. “My dad is a millionaire,” she answers, all nonchalant. It makes Archie almost roll his eyes because, _of course_, she isn’t going to give anything away until he’s begging for it.

“Sure.”

This makes her stop, looking over at him. “You ask me a question and don’t believe my answer?” she probes. Archie shrugs too. “Strike two,” she concludes and keeps on walking.

“Strike two?” Archie frowns, stopping. He needs to go in the opposite direction if he wants to get to the subway station, and Pretty Girl seems to be heading to the exit. “What was strike one?”

She doesn’t answer that, looking at him over her shoulder one more time. However, she does say, “It’s Veronica, by the way,” before leaving through the automatic doors.

While in the subway heading to Lower Manhattan, Archie’s social media search of _Veronica + Chicago_ and then _Veronica + New York_ doesn’t get him anywhere — there are a lot of Veronicas everywhere. He _did _give her his full name, though, so he figures she will reach out if she wants to.

He also knows there’s a — quite big — chance that she _doesn’t _want to, so he decides to let it go as soon as the train stops at his station.

Jughead’s waiting for him outside with a cardboard sign that says _LOSER_. They both beam when they see each other. It’s _really _nice to see his childhood friend after so many months apart, even if they talk almost every day and play online games every other weekend.

They walk to the apartment, which Jughead shares with two other dudes, Nathan and Fogarty, who for some reason go by Sweet Pea and Fangs. They’re chill, even though Sweet Pea warns Archie not to drink all his beer.

The city is busier than Archie expected, even busier than Chicago at its peak. Jughead takes him to see most of Lower Manhattan, Brooklyn, and some museums here and there as they catch up over cups of coffee. Jug seems to be doing well in college. He loves his major, photography, and living in the city.

“There’s also this girl…” Jughead says, quite shy, when they’re at the Brooklyn Waterfront, looking at Manhattan across the Hudson River. Archie wants to tease him but bites his tongue as he listens to his friend gush about this pink-haired girl that goes to class with him, but who probably isn’t interested.

Archie also shares some stories with Jug — not _The Veronica_ story, because that’s something he thinks he wants to keep to himself, even though no one would believe him anyway. They talk mainly about Archie’s plans for the future. Not going to college was his choice — one that gave his mom a permanent headache. Sometimes, he thinks he might be missing out, but his dreams of living for his music are solid.

He and Kevin finally found a bassist for the band, a guy named Moose, and now they're searching for a drummer. As soon as they have one, everything will come together. They’re going to hit the charts.

When the weekend ends, Jughead has to go back to class, and Archie decides to venture into the city on his own. There’s still a lot he hasn’t seen, especially in Uptown, so that’s where he heads.

Archie explores Central Park, giving some spare change to a guy who’s playing guitar at Strawberry Fields and singing _Imagine_. He takes pictures as he crosses the park from West to East, sends his mom some selfies, and starts walking down Fifth Avenue.

He stops at a tourist stand and buys a bottle of water, when an ambulance tears down the busy street, pulling his attention to its path. Just as its colorful blur passes by Archie’s eyes, he sees her — _Veronica _— and he _cannot _believe it.

Just like the first time they met, she’s smoking a cigarette while leaning against a wall, right next to what looks like a very fancy restaurant. She’s wearing a black, lacey dress with a white collar, sheer black tights, and the same boots from the airplane. She looks different, more _preppy_, her makeup lighter, but she still manages to suck the air out of Archie’s lungs.

Archie smiles to himself, dumbfounded, not really believing that this is happening again. He doesn’t think twice before crossing the street and making his way towards her.

When Veronica spots him, she chokes on her inhale. It’s quite nice to see the way she loses her self-control while working through her surprise. It gets him more confident.

“You know, kissing a smoker is like licking an ashtray.”

Veronica’s cough turns into a small laugh, and she shakes her head. “Really?” she counters. She’s wearing her hair half-up today, but it’s so short that some strands are falling around her face. “What’s screwing one like?”

Archie laughs, his ears heating up despite the cold October air. “Could be worse.”

She seems to enjoy the flattery and takes another drag, eyeing Archie up and down again. He scratches the back of his neck, searching for something else to say, but Veronica speaks when she blows out the smoke. “What sign are you?”

He frowns. “What _sign _am I?” She nods, briefly wetting her lips. Archie doesn’t know what _that _has to do with anything. “Uh, Cancer, I guess.”

Veronica scrunches her nose. “Ugh. Strike three,” she says, and Archie’s mouth hangs open. He’s about to ask her — one more time — what _strike one _was, when speaks again. “Are you stalking me?”

Archie can’t help but snort. “Yes,” he jokes.

“Typical Cancer.” Veronica takes one last drag before crushing the cigarette butt under her heel. Then, she takes a quick glance at the restaurant door before looking back at him. “So, what are you up to? Do you wanna do something?”

“What? Are we friends now?” He mimics what she said the other day at the airport, making her slightly roll her eyes. She’s about to say something when a fucking _limousine _pulls up at the sidewalk.

Veronica’s expression changes completely when she sees the car. The driver walks around the car to open the back door. A man in his late forties emerges from it, wearing a suit and a purple tie. He closes the middle button of his jacket before helping a woman get out of the car. She’s blonde and good-looking, even if clearly fake-tanned.

“_Mija_,” the man greets when he sees Veronica. Archie has to control his face, so his jaw doesn’t drop. So, _that’s _her millionaire father. “I’m so sorry we’re late for lunch. There was this meeting…” He sighs, and the blonde woman rubs his arm supportively. Archie steals a glance at Veronica, but she’s wearing a rather unreadable expression. When he looks at her father again, he’s staring right at him. “Is your friend joining us?”

Archie, who is wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, looks like a _beggar _next to every member of this family. Veronica’s father — and her… mother? — knows it too, because he doesn’t look all that pleased when he takes in Archie’s figure. “Uh, actually…”

“No, Daddy,” Veronica thankfully chimes in. “This is Archie, and Archie, this is my father, Hiram.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Archie shakes Hiram’s hand. A firm handshake but not too strong, just like his father told him once. The blonde woman also reaches out to greet him.

“I’m Kate.”

“Daddy’s wife,” Veronica quickly adds. By the tone of her voice, Archie can tell this _might _be a sensitive topic. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something, Daddy. Would you mind if I skipped lunch?”

That doesn’t seem to please him. “Mija, you’re only in town for another day.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” she breathes out, suddenly looking very sad and worried. “But Archie here, he… Well,” she touches Archie’s arm, looking up at him, “do you mind if I tell them?”

Archie _almost _chuckles at the face she’s making, but he manages to control himself and play along. “No, not at all. Go ahead.”

“He’s getting some test results back today, and he was hoping I could go with him.” _Oh, no, she didn’t, _comes to Archie’s mind as Veronica wraps one arm around his torso, pulling him into a half-hug. He has no choice but to put his arm around her shoulders, nodding and seemingly grateful for the support. “It’s a scary time. His doctor’s appointment is in half an hour.”

Hiram frowns and doesn’t seem to enjoy the fact that his daughter is touching someone who could possibly be ill, but it’s ultimately Kate who speaks, almost _too _sweet. “Oh, of course, dear. Let us know how it goes.”

“I’ll have breakfast with you guys,” Veronica says, apologetic, as she pinches Archie’s side.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “I appreciate it. Veronica’s been a rock for me, through and through.”

Hiram purses his lips, not _really _liking the situation, but his wife pats his back. “Well, I guess we can still have our table,” he says amidst a sigh. “Good luck, young man.”

Veronica lets Archie go as soon as her father and his wife go inside the restaurant, and then she starts walking. He has to quicken his pace so they can fall into step side by side. “Stuff like that isn’t funny,” he tells her. Veronica throws him a look. “First of all, you don’t joke about health, and second of all, you only get one chance to make a first impression.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why do you care what my dad thinks about you?”

“I… _don’t_.” Archie heaves out a breath. “But what if we hit it off? Become a thing, or something?”

“_A thing_?” Veronica giggles, turning around so she’s walking backwards in front of him. “Why would I become a _thing _with a guy who I know, from experience, will jump into an airplane bathroom with a complete stranger?”

“That was with _you_!” Archie exclaims. Veronica shrugs, turning around again, her hair flipping. The dress she’s wearing has a dozen little pearls along the back zipper. “You won’t become a thing with me because I had sex with you?”

“And you didn’t have a condom,” she points out about the same time they’re passing by a couple pushing a stroller. They seem to hear her. Archie feels his face on fire again.

“That’s because I don’t walk around carrying condoms and expecting to be jumped by strangers,” he says, purposefully loud so the couple hears, and Veronica laughs, throwing her head back. Archie shakes his head, wanting to feel indignant but not being able to stop a smile from creeping onto his lips. “It’s fine. I don’t want a girlfriend, anyways.”

“From a _thing _to a _girlfriend_,” she crosses the street and Archie follows, only now realizing that they’ve walked a couple of blocks and turned a few times, and he has no idea where he is. Veronica, however, seems to know the area quite well. “Things have escalated quickly.”

“You know what I mean.”

She stops when they reach some bar, pushing the heavy wooden door and nodding towards the interior. “Not really, but we can have a drink while you explain.”

Veronica has a fake ID, and the bartender doesn’t bat one eyelash at it. Soon, a _bottle _of rum and two cans of Coke are in front of them. Archie looks at his watch while Veronica mixes her drink in a glass with ice and lime wedges, a bit worried that she’s planning to get them shitfaced at _two in the afternoon_. Yet, he follows her lead.

“So, Archie Andrews,” she asks after they clink their glasses together, “why a boy-next-door-ish type like you wouldn’t want a girlfriend?”

Archie probably blushes and then takes a sip of his own cocktail, more Coke than rum, because he’s never been a hard liquor guy. “I do want one. It’s just… first things first, you know?” Veronica knits her eyebrows together, prompting him to go on. “My band is my priority, right now. After that is figured out, I can think about settling down.”

“Your band?” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Oh, _right_, you were carrying a guitar case at the airport.”

The fact that she remembers that makes Archie weirdly happy. He suppresses a smile by taking another sip. “Yeah. I write some songs, as well. I’ve been researching, and it normally takes bands six years to get one great hit. Once we’re out there, we can maybe get a record deal and, you know, make it into the industry.”

“And when you become Bon Jovi, the love of your life will just come to one of your gigs and find you?”

Veronica looks at him over the rim of her glass. _Fuck_, she’s really pretty. “Maybe I’ll find her. Who knows?”

“That sounds romantic…” she trails off, twirling the ice in her glass with her straw. “But it’s not really effective, is it? How many bands _do _get a great hit in six years, out of nowhere? And meanwhile, how are you going to make money?”

“Geez, you sound like my mom.” Archie wrinkles his forehead. Veronica tilts her head, waiting for a proper answer. “Look, music is my passion. I know it’s a little… uncertain, but I’m willing to try and do whatever it takes. As for the money, I’ll figure something out.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She clearly isn’t convinced. Archie sighs — it’s not the first time someone is condescending about his expectations, so he doesn’t let it get to him. Maybe the alcohol is starting to affect him, but he feels bolder after she says that.

“Okay, Ronnie. You don’t believe me, so let’s make a bet,” he says as he fishes out his little notebook, the one he uses for writing songs, from his backpack.

Archie feels Veronica watching him. “What are you doing?”

“This,” he rips out a page and hands it to her, who looks from the paper to him, dimples forming around her mouth, “is my parents’ phone number. In six years, when you hear a song by The Kazoos on the radio, you’ll call my house. No worries, I’ll tell them about you. You’ll ask them how to reach me. When they give you my number, you’ll ask me where to send the fifty bucks you owe me.”

“Your parents? Why don’t you just give me your phone number?”

“Because I’ll obviously need to change it, once I’m famous.”

Veronica seems amused. “Fifty bucks?”

“Oh, right, you’re a millionaire. Make it a hundred.”

She giggles, folding the piece of paper carefully and placing it in her jacket pocket. “_My dad _is a millionaire. I’m not.” She takes a big sip of her cocktail. Archie watches the way her lips pucker around the straw. “Alright, Bon Jovi. Hundred dollars it is.”

They leave the bar after five. They’ve talked a lot, drank too many Cuba Libres, and shared plates of greasy food. Turns out Veronica also lives in Chicago — she studies at Northwestern University with a scholarship she worked hard to get. She plans on going to business school too, but she wants to do everything on her own. After her mom got sick and her dad found another woman before her mom had even passed away, she promised herself she wouldn’t accept his help anymore. Or his company. _Or his money_, if she could help it.

Archie admired her as she spoke. From the moment he saw her, he knew there was more than what meets the eyes, but after spending this afternoon listening to her opinions and watching the different expressions on her pretty face, he is still pleasantly surprised.

It seemed quite easy for him to make her laugh, and he likes that too.

It’s already getting darker outside, _definitely _colder, but the fresh air is welcomed because it sobers them up a little. Veronica immediately lights a cigarette, something Archie wants to be bothered about but isn’t. They take selfies together as they walk their way down Fifth Avenue. She basically steals his phone to take pictures _of him_, telling him to make silly poses in front of the Empire State Building.

Veronica takes him into another building, one that seems very random. She speaks to the doorman and soon she grabs Archie’s hand, taking him into the elevator, pressing the last floor. They look at each other as the elevator goes up, and she giggles at him, still quite tipsy, her mascara a bit smudged under her eye. Archie reaches out to wipe it off with his thumb.

She gets more serious, and for a second, Archie wonders if she’ll kiss him. But when the elevator stops with a _ping_, the moment is gone.

On the rooftop there’s no one else but them. The city lights are astounding — Archie had seen it already from the Brooklyn Waterfront with Jug, but it’s just different when you’re looking at them from above.

He takes a few more pictures but then pockets his phone. Veronica presses to his side and he instinctively wraps one arm around her. It’s a nice fit and an even better feel. They watch in silence as the night falls around them, and he only moves when she does.

“I gotta go,” she whispers. Archie feels his heartbeat quickening. _Why? _He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, his eyes searching her face. He didn’t have any plans for where today could take them, but he doesn’t feel— he’s definitely _not _ready to say goodbye. “Thanks for saving me today, Archiekins.”

The nickname makes one corner of his lips curl up. He looks at Veronica. They’re both facing each other, and Manhattan is lighting them up. He should kiss her. He wants to. No, scratch that, he _needs _to kiss her. Their encounter on the airplane was so rushed, so _blurry_, and as amazing as it was, he wants to show her that he can do better. Maybe he can sweep her off her feet? They live in the same city. They—

His thoughts are interrupted by Veronica, closing the distance between them before Archie can even react. She kisses him softly, tentatively. Archie sighs, resting his hands on her waist to bring her closer, opening his mouth against hers.

They kiss slowly, surely, and he brings one of his hands to her face, cupping her jaw. But then, she stops him with her hand around his wrist, stepping back.

Archie opens his eyes. “Ronnie—”

She shakes her head, taking another step back and smiling softly. “Don’t ruin it.”

* * *

**( 22 )**

_There she goes, there she goes again  
_ _And I cannot contain these feelings that remain_

Veronica runs to cross W Randolph Street before the traffic light changes from red to green. Although it’s freezing and the streets are quite wet, she has nothing to worry about — she’s been walking in high heels since she’s what? Twelve? Eleven? She's fine.

She walks into the tall building with her chin up, tapping her ID card and passing through the turnstile. The security guard holds the elevator for her — it’s empty. She goes all the way up to the 16th floor, where the office is.

“Morning, V,” Evelyn greets as soon as she reaches the desk they share. “Oh, my, I love your scarf.”

Veronica smiles, touching the soft, blush color material around her neck. “Thanks. It’s inspired by Valentino’s last collection, actually. I just added the lace and—”

“Yada, yada. Do we pay you to chat or to work?”

Evelyn and Veronica look at each other, the former trying hard not to eyeroll at Nick St. Clair, their boss, who’s only their boss because he’s the company’s heir.

“You need to loosen up a little, Nick,” Evelyn says, non-apologetic. The fact that Nick is their age, and mostly a pig, earns him no respect, even from interns. “It’s almost the new year. Maybe you should work on some resolutions.”

“And maybe _you _should just work. Also, I’ve been telling V, here, that I’ll loosen up with her whenever she wants.”

Veronica glances over at him. She’s mostly disgusted by his face — not that he’s unattractive, he’s just _so _repulsive — but, sometimes, she sees him for what he is: a preppy, empty, shitty guy with the world in his pocket. Someone she should pity.

It makes her think about _herself _and what could have been, had she not given her father the cold shoulder a long time ago.

She opens her mouth, almost telling him to _fuck off_, but ends up only giving him a fake smile. “I have a boyfriend,” she says, because for guys like Nick, that’s all that matters. Another man.

Well, she _does _have a boyfriend, too. Almost four years, now, if she counts their _on-and-off _phase.

“Of course, you do. Now, go and make nineteen copies of this file. There’s a board meeting at nine. Don’t forget that I take my coffee with stevia.”

Veronica keeps smiling, even though there’s a horrible, salty taste on the back of her tongue. She takes a deep breath when Nick turns around, repeating the mantra inside her head: _you’re building a career. You’re building a career. You’re building a career._

Evelyn makes a gagging sound, and it makes Veronica laugh. “Well, that gives us five minutes for a cigarette.”

“You know I quit.”

Evelyn sighs. “So, you say.”

Veronica leaves work after almost everyone else has left. She’d normally take the train from West Loop Gate to Roger’s Park, but tonight, she walks a few blocks to a restaurant, where she’s supposed to meet Reggie. Thirty minutes ago.

He’s already at a table by the window when she gets there. He waves when he sees her at the door as she puts her coat on the rack.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she says when she approaches him, leaning in to kiss him. “Today was chaotic. Nick was _especially _annoying. Did you order already?”

“Only some beer,” he answers amidst a sigh, the beer bottle in front of him almost empty. Veronica takes her seat, unfolds the napkin on her lap, and thanks the waiter who approaches her with a menu. “Have we ever had the linguini on pesto?”

“_Al pesto,_” Veronica corrects him with a small giggle. “I’m not sure. I think we had one a few weeks ago but not here.”

“Mmhmm.”

They continue reading the menu for a couple minutes and choose their dishes. After writing down their orders, the waiter brings her a glass of red wine and another beer for Reggie. They lock eyes when they _clink_ their drinks, and Veronica grins before she takes a sip. Her man looks handsome, as usual. “You know what I’m looking forward to?”

Reggie shrugs. “Nick getting the flu or something?”

“That would be amazing, but no.” She giggles. “Going home, taking off these shoes, and having a hot bath. Maybe you’ll join me?”

He puckers his mouth, as if considering the offer. He knows her apartment is empty for a couple more days, before her roommates come back from spending Christmas in their hometown. Veronica drinks more, feeling the wine relaxing her shoulder muscles, when Reggie reaches out to take her hand, an interesting glow in his narrow eyes. “Or…” he starts, his thumb stroking the back of her hand, a smirk on his lips that gets her a bit excited. “We could go to this really dope party at Steve’s house?”

It’s like a bucket of cold water over her head. “_Really_? I’m offering you a hot bathtub with _me _in it, and you want me to go to a frat house?”

Reggie lets go of her hand, leaning back in his chair. “C’mon, V. It’s been ages since you've gone out with me.”

“I’m here with you, right now. We see each other every—”

“I mean _out there_.” Reggie points out the window. “We’re _twenty-two,_ and all we do is have dinner, go to bed, go grocery shopping…”

“We don’t go grocery shopping.”

“You know what I mean.” He gives her a look. “You’re not… Look, you used to be _the best_ person to hang out with, but now it’s like— you’re just not _fun _anymore.”

Veronica scoffs, her mouth hanging open. “Well, I’m sorry I don’t want to go out every day, but I’m _tired_. I’m working my ass off lately, if you haven’t noticed.” She clenches her jaw. “I’m building a career.”

Reggie nearly rolls his eyes. “You’re serving coffee to a douchebag.”

It hurts. It hurts, and it _stings_. She feels the anger bubbling up inside of her. “And you’re still living off your dad’s allowance.”

His eyebrows travel towards his hairline. “Great. Really nice.” Veronica wants to feel bad for saying what she just did, but _right now_, she doesn’t. She keeps her head up. Reggie throws his napkin on the table. “I guess I’m done here.”

Veronica’s face twists in confusion. “What do you mean _you’re done here_?”

“I’m done.” Reggie shrugs. “We’re done. I can’t do this anymore.”

“You’re better off without him.” Betty rubs soft, comforting circles on Veronica’s back. “That’s what I think.”

“Of course, she’s better off.” Cheryl throws the blonde an icy look, her hand on Veronica’s knee. “Look, I didn’t say anything while you two were together, but Reggie Mantle… _Ew._”

It’s probably supposed to cheer her up, but Veronica chuckles and sobs at the same time.

“Don’t say that, Cher.” Betty speaks in her usual sweet voice. “We’re so sorry this happened, V.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes. “Right before New Year’s? Scumbag.”

Betty nods. “Yeah. That wasn’t nice of him, at all.”

“So what if I didn’t want to go to Steve’s stupid party?” Veronica furiously wipes away her tears — she _hates _that she’s been crying on and off for the past two days. She commanded herself to _stop already_, but it always comes back to her. “He said I was no longer _fun_. Can you believe that?” Cheryl and Betty pretend not to exchange a look. Veronica raises her eyebrows. “Oh, my God, you two agree with him!”

Betty blurts out a high-pitched, “_What? No!”_ at the same time Cheryl looks away, a hand behind her neck. Veronica narrows her swollen eyes at both of her roommates.

Cheryl is the first to give in, clicking her tongue. “Look, I’m on your side, and I would never agree with anything that fuckboy says, but I do think you need to shake things up. You should go with me and Sheila to that New Year’s Eve party. Even Betty is going!”

Veronica turns her head to look at Betty, suspiciously. Betty has always been the biggest homebody between the three of them, and _she’s _looking at Cheryl like she didn’t know about any party until this very moment.

“I… am.” Betty smiles at Veronica after a second. “We should all go to the party. Dilton will come too.”

Veronica feels her body sinking into the couch’s backrest. “Great. If you two have dates, I might as well just stay home eating gelato.”

“Oh, c’mon. _No,_” Cheryl crosses her arms, “enough wallowing. You’re Veronica freaking Lodge. If you can’t find a date for New Year’s Eve, I don’t know _who can_. Besides, Reggie is going. Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of having a point?”

Veronica sighs. She knows it’s just pep talk, but for some reason, it ignites something inside of her. “You’re right.” She sits up again. “Enough of this already. If he wants _fun Veronica_, I’ll show him _fun Veronica_.”

Betty and Cheryl smile proudly at her.

Easier said than done.

Late morning on December 31st, as Veronica scrolls down the contact list on her phone, she realizes that maybe agreeing to this challenge wasn’t the best idea.

There _are _a bunch of people she could text, guys and girls she was briefly involved with during the _on-and-off _phase in the early days of her relationship with Reggie. But after _years _of radio silence, how can she just approach them? _Hey gorgeous, sorry for not answering your last text like, never, wanna hang out on New Year’s?_

Sounds like desperation.

She supposes she could invite another single girl friend, maybe Evelyn, but the mere thought of _explaining _to someone what happened is nauseating. Plus, it’s better if Nick never finds out that she and Reggie broke up.

Deciding to think about this later, Veronica sets her phone down and gets up from her bed, opening her closet doors. She sighs as she analyzes all the things in her closet, wondering what she could wear for the party. Except for some pieces she saved from her mom’s wardrobe, nothing is really _haute couture_ anymore, but she still appreciates everything she owns — and all the little changes she made so they could be just hers.

For some reason, her eyes are drawn to a green, military jacket she hasn’t noticed since _forever_, perhaps _years._ Veronica takes it and tries it on, trying to remember when and where she last wore it, and it comes back to her mind — _New York, _paired up with the lacey dress, the one that she sewed pearls along the zipper.

Her heartbeat picks up when she slides her hand into one of the pockets. Folded and worn, because she probably forgot about it when she last washed the jacket, the piece of paper was still there. She feels her lips pulling into a smile when she unfolds it, carefully as if it could disintegrate.

_Archie Andrews (parents)_

_(_ _773)-855-9230_

Veronica sits back down on her bed, staring at the paper. It’s been a good while since she thought about Archie Andrews, the redheaded hottie she met at the airport and that managed to distract her from all the bad things in existence, at least for a few hours.

The airplane sex was _something_, she supposes. He was hot, definitely interested, and she was _sick _of waiting for Reggie to decide if they would or wouldn’t take things further than their fling. So, yeah, she jumped him. She never thought she’d see him again.

But when Archie found _her_, right before she was about to sit down with her dad and _Kate, _two days after the anniversary of her mom's death (the reason why she was in New York, anyway), she thought: _fuck, that is a sign if I’ve ever seen one_.

Veronica bites her lower lip, thumb running over his name. Maybe…

Could it be?

_Don’t be dumb, _she tells herself, refraining from picking up her phone. It’s been over four years. She had all his information this _entire time, _and she _never _used it, never even thought about using it, never tried to look him up on social media. She remembers thinking to herself: _well, we live in the same city, maybe we’ll cross paths again. _But they never did. Things with Reggie (finally) got serious, and Archie just stayed buried in her memory. He was like a dream she had once, one that makes you wake up with a smile on your lips but completely separated from reality.

She sits there for another long minute before thinking _you know what? _and picking up her phone, typing the numbers quickly so she won't have the chance to talk herself out of it.

“Hi, this is Fred Andrews,” a man’s voice comes through after it rings a couple of times, and Veronica freezes. “Hello? _Hello?_”

It takes her a moment to regain her nerve, but she eventually manages to say, “Hi. Hi, uh… Is Archie there?” She squints her eyes shut, aware that she sounds like an idiot.

“Yeah sure, hold on, sweetheart.” The voice on the other end says politely. Veronica _almost _hangs up when she hears a muffled yell. “_Arch! Phone!_”

Veronica panics for a second. She didn’t think about what she would _say _to him — to be honest, she just assumed no one would pick up, or that he wouldn’t be at home, or—

“_Thanks, Dad._ Hello?”

Oh, my. “Archie! Hi!”

“Um, hi. Who’s this?” Archie asks, almost a bit distracted, as if he’s in the middle of something. Veronica takes a deep breath. Okay, now is not the time to chicken out.

“This is… Veronica. I don’t know if you remember me.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Veronica swallows, expecting to hear a _click_, but what comes next is Archie’s voice, now no longer distracted. “New York, Veronica?”

She breathes out, relieved, even smiles a little. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” There’s _more _silence after that, and Veronica isn’t sure, but it sounded like Archie just got the wind knocked out of him. At least that’s how _she _feels. “Wow, okay, uh, what’s… What’s up?”

“I just came across your number all of a sudden, and I was thinking to myself… _Oh, I wonder how Archie’s doing. Is he still in Chicago?_” Veronica bites her lip. “Crazy, right? Anyways, I know you’re probably busy tonight, but I thought… Maybe you’d like to grab a coffee this afternoon? You know, catch up?”

She’s prepared for his excuse, but she definitely _isn’t _prepared for him saying, “Sure.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yeah.” There’s a slight hesitation in his voice, and this feels _too easy_. “Sure, yeah. Where are you? I can come over after lunch, and we can find somewhere to go.”

_Come over? _Veronica looks around, her heart beating fast. Cheryl and Betty are still home, but they’re going out soon to have lunch with their partners. They’re only supposed to meet again at the party.

“Well, yeah. Yeah, great, I’ll— do you want to give me your cell number? I can text you my address.”

After not having too much for lunch, Veronica decides to wash the dishes but ends up cleaning the entire kitchen/living room area, just so she has something to do with her hands while she waits for Archie Andrews to arrive at 4 PM. When everything looks spotless — and there’s still over an hour left — she starts to get ready, putting in a huge amount of effort to pull together an _effortless _look.

She curls her hair and then smooths the curls with a brush, so they look just slightly wavy and a bit messy, _wake-up-like-this _hair. She does her make up in a soft way, earthy tones on her eyes and just a bit of mascara; a rosy stain on her lips. She dresses as if she was _just lounging _in her house, but also ready to leave at any moment, black skinny jeans and an oversized grey sweater with pearls she sewed all over the sleeves.

Staring at the mirror, Veronica thinks she looks good. She also thinks she’s being _ridiculous_, doing all of this for a guy that she hasn’t seen in four years. She’s in her bathroom, wondering if she should do bolder makeup or change outfits, when the bell rings, and the dog that lives one apartment above her starts barking.

Veronica runs to the kitchen so she can answer the intercom. “Hello?”

“Hi, it's me,” Archie says, apparently very much there already. Her stomach sinks a little — what the hell did she have in mind when she called him?

_You invited him. Now you have to own it. _“Yeah, uh, the gate is sorta broken, so give it a jiggle and push.”

She looks around the very tidy space. Damn, it looks like no one has ever lived here. Veronica decides to mess it up a bit, putting some very clean glasses in the sink, and fluffing the pillows on the couch. She opens a magazine too, leaving it on the coffee table so she can pretend she was reading it before he got there.

There’s a knock on her door a minute later, and she takes a couple of settling breaths before opening it.

The pair of golden-brown eyes widen a little when they meet hers. Veronica opens her mouth, almost as if her breath hitched — Archie Andrews looks even better than he did four years ago, his jaw more defined, his red hair shorter. Suddenly, inviting him doesn’t feel like a bad idea _at all._

“Hi again,” he says, his Adam’s apple going up and down when he swallows, that same adorable flush appearing on his face.

Veronica can’t help but smile at him. “Hi. You look good.”

“You look different,” he says, biting his lower lip. Veronica raises her eyebrows. “No, but like, good different. Nice. I like the long hair.”

She giggles at his babbling, something he definitely did back when they first met. It seems like things haven’t changed too much in that department. “Thanks. Come in.”

Archie smiles briefly, taking off his gloves when he walks into her apartment. Veronica closes the door and watches him look around.

“Oh,” Archie says when she offers to take his quilted jacket when he takes it off, “thanks.”

“No problem.” She puts his things on a rack next to the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees that he's wearing a dark green sweater underneath, something that looks like soft cashmere, and it accentuates all the right lines of his torso — his shoulder blades, his chest.

“Your place is nice.”

“Oh, it isn’t exactly mine. It’s my friend’s, Cheryl. When her brother moved, she didn’t want to live alone, so she invited me and another girl to share it with her. It’s close to campus, so it's convenient.”

Archie nods but doesn’t make any comments. They stand in the living room for a moment, looking at each other — Archie with his hands shoved into his pockets, Veronica chewing on the inside of her lower lip. She knows he’s waiting for her to be a good host and break the ice, but right now all she can think of is _damn, he looks so fine, _fighting a war with herself. Should she give into this sudden urge and jump him like she did on the airplane so many years ago, or should she offer him something to drink?

There’s a bunch of downsides to the first option. One, she doesn’t know anything about him — he did accept her invitation quite quickly, but what if he has a girlfriend? Two, she doesn’t want to be the girl who needs to make out with someone after a breakup just to prove that—

Before she can stop herself, she kisses him.

Veronica isn’t proud of it. In fact, she’s about to pull away and apologize, when Archie kisses her back, opening his mouth against hers and breathing in deeply. He holds her by the waist with one arm, bringing her body closer, and whatever happened in these four years taught him one thing or two about kissing, because he places his other hand in her hair, fingers curling around the black strands and pulling slightly.

She _almost _moans against his mouth, and that’s what brings her back to reality. She hasn’t kissed someone that wasn’t Reggie in _years._ To indulge in a hot rendezvous doesn't seem _right_. Plus, she doesn't want Archie to think this is the reason she called him.

Veronica pulls away, pushing his shoulders and running a hand through her hair. She could laugh at how puzzled he looks, if only she wasn’t trying to catch her breath. “Do you, uh, do you want anything to drink? There’s diet Coke. I could make some coffee,” she says, already on her way to the kitchen.

“I’m, uh…” Archie mumbles, one hand on the back of his neck, obviously confused by the sudden mood change. Veronica can’t blame him. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I think coffee will be nice.” She opens the fridge even though the coffee powder is somewhere else entirely. The cool air helps her face to stop burning. She’s embarrassed by her actions, but then it hits her, how Archie was _so willing_. She turns to him, looking at him through the threshold. “I can’t believe you assumed this was what this was about.”

He knits his eyebrows together, cheeks no longer red. “You can’t believe I assumed that was about the… _what_?”

“I’m not the same girl you met four years ago, you know,” Veronica rambles, scanning the items in the fridge, wondering what she could get from it that would make some sense. She hears Archie walking into the kitchen.

“Do I?”

There’s a tease in his voice that she remembers well. She closes the fridge, turning around to look at him. He’s not really looking at her — he’s opening a drawer close to him, and then another one, a small, amused smile on the corner of his lips.

“I mean, I am the same girl, but it’s not… I don’t do things like that anymore.”

“I understand.” He pulls another drawer and then opens a cabinet.

“I genuinely just came across your number. It’s not like I premeditated this and called you so you could be some sort of rebound therap…” she stops talking when she notices Archie crossing the kitchen, apparently searching for something, exploring all the counters, and even inside a cereal box, the small smile never disappearing from his face. “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for your crazy pills,” he answers as he looks above the fridge. “They have to be around here for moments like these, right?”

“That’s not funny,” Veronica says, but she’s already chuckling, especially because now Archie is looking at her with a soft, genuine smile — she hates how adorable he looks. “What happened to ‘_we shouldn’t joke about health_’? What if I really was crazy?”

He giggles, shaking his head. “Do you wanna eat something? I couldn’t really have lunch. I was nervous about meeting you, but now I can’t figure out why.”

Veronica rolls her eyes in faux annoyance. “Is that how you talk to all your dates?”

He shrugs, his hands in his pockets again, his smile getting bigger.

“This is a date, then?”

It _isn’t _a date. Veronica repeats that more than once as they walk from the apartment to the _tapas _restaurant that she goes to with the girls quite often. Archie keeps a smug smile on his face, like he doesn’t believe her at all.

It doesn’t really matter what he thinks.

Although it’s weird to walk side by side with Archie after so long, it also… isn’t, for some reason. It’s like they’re back to that day in New York, for a moment, nothing but giggling against the cold breeze, the sun setting around them.

She remembers being essentially still a teen and drinking Cuba Libres with him in one of her favorite bars in the Upper East Side — the one that didn’t give a shit about her fake ID. This time, they’re legal adults sitting across from each other at a nicer table, in a nicer place. The restaurant is quite empty — no one’s eating anything at 5PM on New Year’s Eve — but there is a fire crackling in the fireplace and single flower arrangements decorating the tables. They order _papas bravas_, olives, and stuffed mushrooms to share and a bottle of _tempranillo_.

“Not a date,” Veronica reminds him when they’re about to clink their wine glasses.

“Cheers to that.”

They take a sip, accidentally looking at each other over their drinks. Veronica ends up laughing, her face warm, as if she’s blushing. “Look at us. All grown up.”

“At least pretending to be all grown up.” Archie smiles, popping an olive into his mouth. There’s low, indie-rock music playing in the background. “What have you been doing?”

“Well, I graduated, then I started business school. I’m currently studying and interning at STC Financial. Just building a career, you know?”

Archie nods, attentive. “Financial, huh? Like your dad?”

Veronica frowns a little, surprised that he remembers the conversation they had that afternoon, about how she _refused _to follow her father’s footsteps and inherit Lodge Industries. She took him to the company’s headquarters later, kissed him with Manhattan’s lights at their feet. That was a nice moment. “Well, I suppose it’s what he does, but I’m not working _for him_, so…” she trails off, twirling the wine in her glass. “How about you?”

Archie narrows his eyes, like he caught that she changed the subject of the conversation on purpose. “I’m moving to LA. Kevin, our lead singer, found this manager that might have us play at some festivals, so…”

“Oh, _right_! The band! Becoming Bon Jovi.” Veronica smiles. Archie slightly rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too. “It’s what now? Two years until you hit the charts?”

“Yep,” he seems confident, “and two years until you send me those hundred bucks you’ll owe me.”

“_Ha-ha_,” Veronica says, ironically, and Archie wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his wine. She’s left with a lingering grin on her face. “How’s that working out for you? Wrote any good songs yet?”

“We have a few songs up on Spotify, some followers… You should listen to us.” Veronica watches as he takes his phone from his pocket. He shows her the screen after a moment — it’s their profile on Spotify, Archie and three other equally handsome guys in a black and white picture that looks very professional.

“Archie and The Hotties?” she jokes, making him chuckle as he sets his phone down. She still remembers his band’s name, for some reason — The Kazoos — like it’s been in the back of her mind all this time. She doesn’t know why she never looked them up. Probably the same reason why she never tried to contact him. “Any songs about me?”

Archie tilts his head, his gaze suddenly wandering, lips still curled up. “You won’t know unless you listen to them.” His eyes go back to her face.

Veronica wets her lips and takes another sip of her wine, just so her grin doesn’t give away whatever’s fluttering inside her. They eat and drink in silence for a few minutes, until Archie decides to resume the conversation.

“So,” he starts, patting his mouth with the napkin, “who dumped who?”

Veronica frowns. “What?”

“Your breakup. Who dumped who?”

“Who said I had a breakup?” she shoots back, replenishing her wine glass.

“You did,” Archie responds, taking another bite of his stuffed mushroom. “You called me your rebound therapy during your hypoglycemic rant.”

Veronica has to press her lips together in a thin line, so she doesn’t laugh. He’s ridiculous. “I said you _weren’t _my rebound therapy.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Please, Ronnie. Why else would you call me after all this time?” Archie asks like he already has the answer. She opens her mouth to protest — she told him the _truth_, at least half of it — but he shakes his head. “I don’t mind, by the way. I just wanna know the story.”

“Well,” she takes another sip, “when you and I met, I was… half-involved with this guy, Reggie. When I wanted something serious, he didn’t. When he wanted something serious, I didn’t.” Archie nods, knowingly. “Eventually we got together. And I thought things were fine, but four days ago he had the courage to dump me, kinda out of nowhere,” she completes with a sigh.

“Asshole.”

Veronica giggles at his comment. “Anyway, I _might _have been looking for a date to this New Year’s party so I could shove it in his face that he made a huge mistake, but then I _genuinely _just stumbled across your number. I didn’t think you’d still live with your parents.”

“I don’t. It’s funny, I was there picking up some old stuff I have to take with me, when you called.”

“Destiny, then?” Veronica kinks one eyebrow, wondering if the wine is making her flirt with him. That adorable blush from before comes back to his cheeks when their eyes meet. She takes a deep breath. “You probably have plans, already. And, to be honest, those parties are always dumb.”

Archie grimaces.

“Oh, yeah. Glasses with glitter and those lame hats.” He shakes his head in disapproval.

She agrees. “Bunch of amateurs getting drunk. It’s cringy.”

“Yeah.” Archie fiddles with what’s left of his _papas bravas_ with his fork. Veronica takes a big gulp of wine. “But… just so you know, I don’t have any plans.”

“Is this your ex’s?” Archie asks, quite confused, after she makes him change into a blue button-up and a black sports jacket.

“No.” She laughs, unfastening the top buttons of the shirt. Wouldn’t that be great? “They’re Jason’s, Cheryl’s brother. He left them behind for some reason.” She takes a step back to examine Archie’s figure. “Dashing. I’ll change in five minutes, and we can try to call a Lyft.”

Veronica leaves him in the living room and runs to her room, quickly stepping into the outfit she picked beforehand. It’s a vintage, gold sequin mini skirt, in which she added a mesh lining for an extra detail, and a simple black top. She reapplies her makeup, cat-eyeliner and red lips, and puts some mousse in her hair to make it messier.

Archie’s jaw kind of drops when she comes back to the living room — she took _twenty _minutes, but the look on his face is worth it.

“Ronnie?” Archie asks when they’re outside, waiting for the Lyft that they managed to call. “I’ve been meaning to ask you… What was strike one?”

Veronica, who was texting Cheryl to let her know she’d be at the party soon, only knits her eyebrows together.

“In New York,” Archie clarifies. “Strike two was that I didn’t believe you when you said you were a millionaire. Strike three was that I was born under the wrong star sign.” He shakes his head, almost as if he couldn’t believe it even after all this time, and she laughs a little. “What was strike one?”

She presses her lips together. “Strike one was that I had to make the first move,” Veronica answers, just as the Lyft pulls up to the sidewalk.

“What?” Archie looks dumbfounded as he automatically opens the door for her. It seems like that’s a normal gesture for him, always the gentleman, even though he sounds a bit annoyed right now. “You’re saying I got strike one before we even met? You can’t get strike one before you step up to the plate.”

Veronica shrugs, stepping into the car.

There’s traffic when the Lyft turns onto West Sheridan Road. Archie and Veronica are sitting on opposite sides of the backseat. He hasn’t spoken ever since they got into the car, even though, every now and again, he huffs out an annoyed sigh.

“I introduced myself,” he says, after a while. Veronica glances at him, and he looks determined. “In New York. I introduced myself. Isn’t that a move?”

“No.”

The car finally starts moving again.

“Isn’t it a little sexist that I get a strike for not making a move?”

Veronica laughs at that. “Says the man in the conversation. I also called you today, you know.”

“That’s because I didn’t have your number or your full name.”

“Have you ever asked for it?” She bats her eyelashes at him.

Archie has no time to keep on whining because the Lyft stops in front of a place called _Barcocina_, where the party is happening. It’s full of people entering the place with their bright outfits and even brighter hats. They can hear the music from outside, and Archie and Veronica look at each other, nodding in approval. She grabs his hand, leading him through the entrance.

The inside looks even better. The décor is amazing, all blue and silver, and everyone seems to have a glass of champagne in their hands. Veronica scans through the crowd, soon finding Cheryl, Sheila, Betty, and Dilton near the bar.

“You made it!” Cheryl yells, rushing towards her when she approaches the group. “And… Nice choice of competition,” She eyes Archie, not making her approval subtle. He blushes again when Cheryl reaches out a hand. “Cheryl Blossom. You look great in my brother’s clothes.”

“Uh, thanks.” Archie shakes her hand, and Veronica's neck feels warm, proud of herself for a second. “Archie Andrews.”

“Archie,” Veronica touches his arm, right above the elbow, when her friends follow Cheryl’s lead and come say hello, “this is Sheila, Cheryl’s girlfriend. This is Betty Cooper, my other roommate, and—” Veronica stops, because Dilton is looking at Archie with a weird expression, almost as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Her boyfriend, Dilton.”

“I know you from somewhere.” Dilton scratches his chin.

“Uh,” Archie rubs the back of his neck. “Seven-Eleven next to Jackson Station?” he asks and then turns to Veronica, to explain. “I was a cashier there for like, two years.”

She ponders, as does Dilton and everyone around them, but then it hits her. Her mouth hangs open. “I can’t believe it. Your band! Archie’s in a band! The Kazoos!”

“_Yes! _That’s it!” Dilton pats Archie’s arm, and Veronica turns to Betty, beaming. Betty smiles too, even though she has little to no idea what they’re talking about. “I saw you guys playing at the French Market a couple weeks ago. I have a friend who’s gonna flip when I tell her I met you.”

“Oh, I—” Archie seems as happy as he is stunned, and Veronica feels giddy. Jokes aside, being recognized seems like a _huge step _in his path to become Bon Jovi, and she’s really proud of him for a moment. “Yeah, wow. Do you follow us on Spotify?”

Archie says he’s going to find them some champagne, but the truth is that Dilton whisks him away with questions about the band and requests for selfies. Veronica is left with Sheila, Cheryl, and Betty. All three of them turn to her as soon as the boys step away, looking like mean Powerpuff Girls, or something.

Cheryl is the one who says, “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” Veronica plays with the ring on her middle finger, just to have something to do with her hands. “He’s an old friend. I met him a few years ago, and we just got back in touch. It’s nothing, really.”

“Nothing?” Sheila wrinkles her forehead. “One, he’s gorgeous, and two, I don’t think he got the memo that you are _just friends_.”

“He _did _get the mem—” Veronica stops talking. Over Betty’s shoulder, she sees Reggie. He’s dressed in all black — shirt, suit pants, and a vest, a vest _she _adjusted for him. He looks good as he always does, hair slicked back, but what hits Veronica is that he doesn’t look _sad _or _regretful _at all. In fact, he looks pretty happy as he talks to another woman, wearing a red dress.

The girls turn around to see what made Veronica stop. Cheryl scoffs, outraged, and Betty places her hand on Veronica’s arm. “Okay. Okay, it's not a big deal. We knew he would be here.”

Yes, _they knew _Reggie would be at the party, but Veronica didn’t think he’d be at the party with a _date_. A date with miles of tanned legs. A date with lustrous, strawberry blonde hair. She didn’t think he’d move on _so fucking fast_, find someone else to smile at less than a week after he dumped her.

(okay, she _is_ here with someone else too, but it wasn’t— Archie doesn't _count_.)

“That _son of a bitch_,” Sheila blurts out.

“We need shots,” Cheryl decides, steering them to the bar. “Tequila!” she yells at the barman. Veronica feels catatonic for some reason, especially when the woman in red throws her arms around Reggie’s neck, and he leans down to kiss her.

Veronica’s heart sinks into her stomach.

Dancing is much more fun than moping over her asinine of an ex, Veronica decides as she swings her hands up in the air. And that’s what she’s here for. To have _fun_. Fun Veronica, like the old days, isn’t that what everyone wanted?

She dances and gulps champagne, vaguely aware of her friends around her. She knows Archie is there too, jumping to the loud music, and she’s so happy that he’s famous now. He deserves it; he’s such a nice guy.

Veronica wraps her arms around his neck, intending to tell him that, but she _is _quite tipsy. She ends up tripping on his feet, and Archie laughs, holding her by the waist. It ends up being quite prophetic, because the DJ changes the song to a slower one, and they’re already in position.

Archie sways easily with her in his arms. Veronica leans her head on his shoulder, and feels his chin resting on the side of her head. She closes her eyes for a moment, relishing in the proximity.

When she opens them, she ends up craning her neck to catch a glimpse of Reggie and his date, who are also wrapped up on the dancefloor. She feels _stupid _for doing so, stupid and drunk. She doesn’t want to admit it, but it really hurts to see Reggie dancing with someone else, like the past years meant _nothing_. Like they didn’t spend all those New Year’s Eves together, just like that.

Reggie does lift up his head to glare at her and Archie. Veronica can see him clenching his jaw, but soon tightening his grip around his date’s waist and looking away.

“Put your hands on my ass.” She hears Archie’s voice coming from up close. “That’ll really get him.”

Veronica leans back to look at him, not really sure if he’s kidding or not. There _is _a grin curling at his lips when their eyes meet — half-amused, half-sympathetic. It makes Veronica almost emotional, how understanding he’s been of this whole situation. She ends up letting out a giggle, hiding her face on his chest as she feels his torso shake when he chuckles too.

“Do you want me to put my hands on your ass?” he jokes. “I can punch him, too.”

She laughs then, looking at Archie again. He’s smiling wider now, and she bites her lip.

“You alright?” he asks, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. Veronica nods as she exhales.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go to the ladies’ room,” she says, already stepping back, feeling like she needs to breathe for a second. “I’ll be right back.”

_Enough already_, Veronica thinks as she stares at herself in the mirror, splashing cold water on the back of her neck. Her lipstick is gone to the numerous glasses of champagne, just a red shadow on her lips now. _Enough. _Outside, there’s a good, handsome, amazing guy who didn’t even hesitate to spend the day with her after _years _of absolutely no contact, and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let this opportunity pass. _Again._

She should’ve called Archie four years ago, that’s what she should’ve done.

Outside the bathroom, the DJ announces that the countdown is about to start. Veronica dries her hands and heads back out to the party, searching for Archie’s red hair amongst the crowd, but she can’t see him anywhere.

The countdown starts. Veronica starts dodging couples pairing up, her heart beating faster. She sees Cheryl and Sheila laughing, champagne glasses in their hands, but no one else. _Maybe he left_, something tells her, as she searches frantically around her.

_Five! Four!_

She can’t find Archie, but she does find Reggie.

_Three! Two!_

He’s shouting numbers with his date, a big goofy smile on his face. Veronica feels like she’s reached a new low point when the clock strikes midnight and confetti falls around her. She watches Reggie lean in to kiss his date and—

There’s a flash of red and a pair of large, calloused hands cup her face, bringing her close. Archie whispers, “I found you,” before kissing her, deep and slow.

Veronica melts against his mouth, kissing him back with all her might as she wraps her arms around his neck. Archie kisses her so hard, he lifts her up off her feet.

It’s a quick trip from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs.

Archie softly kisses the curve of her neck, and Veronica can’t stop giggling. The driver is definitely staring at them through the rear-view mirror. “I can’t believe Cheryl made you give Jason’s jacket back,” she says in between laughter.

“She did.” He laughs too, and the air coming out of his mouth makes Veronica’s skin become covered with goosebumps. She keeps serious, trying to control herself before the driver kicks them out in the middle of the frozen street. Archie eventually presses a kiss to her shoulder and pulls away, but he holds her hand until they reach his house.

Veronica feels very drunk, or very _happy_, and stumbles next to Archie when he opens the door to his place. They’re laughing again, but she can’t really remember why— it doesn’t matter.

However, the sight of Archie’s dark, empty loft sobers her up (a little). There’s no furniture except for a mattress without the sheets on the floor, and a stack of boxes on one side. She blinks, puzzled, and holds on to the crook of his arm. “Archiekins,” she whispers cautiously, “I think you’ve been robbed.”

Archie chuckles. “No, I haven’t,” he says softly as he closes the door behind him. “I’m moving, remember?”

Veronica stops in her tracks. She searches for the information inside her brain. He did say he was moving to LA with his band, but— “But not now.”

“Yes, now.” Archie tries to flick the light switch, but nothing happens. “Power’s out. It’s official.”

Veronica walks further into the loft, holding her arms around herself as she looks around. The streetlights coming through the bare windows are bright enough to light up shapes and lines. “What do you mean? Now, now?”

Archie stops in front of her. He’s so tall. Veronica feels her mouth shaping into a pout when he reaches out to remove something from her hair — a plastic tiara she didn’t remember putting on in the first place. “I’m moving tomorrow. I have to catch a flight at nine, and the movers will pick up the rest of the stuff in the afternoon.”

“Oh.”

Archie smiles sadly at the tiara in his hand. Veronica thinks it’s pretty — it’s encrusted with pearls and cubic zirconia studs. She can’t find many coherent thoughts except _fuck, he’s moving_ and how empty this knowledge makes her feel.

“Do you sew?” he asks, suddenly, taking her back to the present.

She blinks drunkenly. “What?”

“I don’t know. I saw the sewing machine at your house, and everything you wear has something different on it. Like _this_.” He points to the mesh lining on her skirt.

“You noticed that?”

Archie smiles coyly, placing the tiara on top of one of the boxes, and Veronica thinks she sees a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I write songs. I have to notice stuff.”

Veronica takes one step closer to him. She _is _drunk, yes — perhaps she’s also sad because of Reggie and sensitive over the fact that Archie has learned things about her that she didn’t even bother to tell him — but she’s also very conscious of what she’s doing when she reaches out to take his face in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re moving away when I just found you again.”

Archie doesn’t respond. He simply leans in, kissing her, tentatively at first but then harder. Veronica feels his hands on her hips, bringing her closer. She holds him by his shoulders, her whole body electrified. This isn’t fair.

Archie walks her back carefully, pushing her against a wall or something. Veronica sighs at the feeling of his body pressed against her. She doesn’t want him to leave. He should stay. He should—

“Hold on.” Veronica pushes him away. She’s suddenly nauseated, and it probably has nothing to do with butterflies. Her mouth fills with salty saliva, and she can’t pay attention to Archie’s confused face when she darts to the nearest door, praying for it to be a bathroom. “Wait, just a sec—”

Veronica throws up into the toilet, the room spinning around her. She feels Archie holding her hair out of her face, laughing quietly.

“It’s okay, Ronnie. Let it out.”

Next thing Veronica knows, she’s waking up to the sound of a garbage truck backing up. Birds are chirping, and the sun is streaming through the windows.

She stirs, quite a headache forming behind her eyes and a horrible taste in her mouth. The memory comes back to her with a rush of embarrassment — she can’t believe she threw up in front of Archie and that he had to help her.

_Fun Veronica_ is a disaster.

Veronica opens her eyes to the bright daylight and sits up slowly. She’s still wearing her clothes, except for her shoes, but there’s also a blanket on top of her. “Archie?” she calls.

No answer.

Veronica takes a deep breath. He had a flight to catch in the morning, and it’s probably past nine already. It feels strange and lonely, to wake up to his empty loft, a place she didn’t know existed but was always there.

She stretches and gets up slowly, wrapping the blanket around her. The boxes are still there, and so is the tiara he took off her head. Her purse is close to it as well. Veronica searches for her phone.

There’s a bunch of missed calls from her friends and a few texts. Between them, there’s one that makes her heart beat a little faster.

** _didn’t want to wake u. off to the airport. if u want to wait for the movers be my guest, lol._ **

** _ps: u snore._ **

Veronica chuckles.

**_fuck off, _**she writes back, but adds a heart emoji, for good measure.

** _tbc_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you like the first part! 😍 i already finished the fic, so i will be posting the second one briefly, as soon as you have time to read and review this one if you think i deserve it! also, it's a good way to distract you from the LM update that i'm still brewing lol... if it wasn't clear, the numbers before the 'installments' are meant to be their age in that section. thank you for everything as usual, much love for everyone and a great weekend!
> 
> with this fic i get to play with my favorite thing: musician!archie (bring him back RAS!!). so, a _lot_ of music is featured and i love it, but especially in the second installment. oh, i gotta say that the band name (The Kazoos) was nic's idea and not mine lol without further do, music in this chapter:
> 
>   * third eye blind - semi-charmed life (18)
>   * boys like girls - the great escape
>   * dashboard confessional - hands down
>   * sixpence none the richer - there she goes (22)
>   * hooverphonic - mad about you
>   * finley quaye - dice
>   * john mayer - back to you (title)


	2. Chapter 2

**( 25 )**

_ Caught up in ancient history, I didn’t believe in destiny  
l look up you’re standing next to me; what a feeling._

_ I didn’t put my money on it, but I was hoping that you would be here. _

_ If I was something that you ever wanted, I’m all ears… _

“I’M ALL EARS!”

Kevin half-sings, half-yells as Mad Dog taps the steering wheel to the rhythm of the drums. Archie, in the back of the convertible going down Lincoln Boulevard, air guitars and joins Kevin and Moose for the chorus.

_ I made a wish at 11:11, and held your hips at 12:34 _

_ There was a kiss just waiting to happen, _

_ But my cab was calling outside the door. _

“Ooooooh!”

“I knew from the beginning!”

“Ooooooh!”

“It was you from the beginning!”

_ “Alright, alright, you just heard The Kazoos with 11:11. I don’t know about you, Dom, but this song always makes me want to shake my a_—”

_ “A nice song indeed, Brad. The Kazoos are one of the many attractions at the Indiecade Festival, coming up this June. If you want to win a pair of tickets…” _

Kevin turns down the volume, a smile on his face that’s reciprocated on all of theirs.

“I still can’t believe we’re on the radio,” he says. Archie couldn’t agree more — it’s been _ months _since their song hit the charts, and he still isn't over the thrill of hearing his lyrics come to life on the radio.

“Which one do you think is gonna be next?” Moose asks. “I really want it to be _ My Heart’s Always Yours. _Archie outdid himself on that one.”

Arche laughs, his ears as red as they usually get whenever someone compliments him, something that has never changed with time.

“Hey, I helped too,” Mad Dog chimes in.

“We know you did, Munroe.” Kevin rolls his eyes. The boys fall in comfortable silence after that, wind on their faces and lingering smiles on their lips. After a few minutes, Archie grabs his phone, scrolling down his messages.

His fingers hover above his chat with Veronica, as they usually do whenever he hears his song on the radio. He remembers when he first heard it — his heart was beating so fast. And after jumping around with his bandmates, he had every intention of calling his parents and his girlfriend, in that order, but he ended up calling Veronica.

It just _ happened_.

Her reaction was something he’d never forget. She tuned into the station immediately, yelled to get Cheryl and Sheila, and kept saying _ ohmygod _repeatedly. Archie felt his eyes prickling with tears when the whole thing was over, and she told him through the phone that she was so happy and so proud, and that she’d wire him his hundred dollars because he deserved it.

Archie breathes in. He doesn’t send her a text every time he feels overcome with joy and gratitude, but he likes knowing that he _ can_. That they’ll go months without speaking and it doesn’t matter.

In some ways, it’s like with Jughead — a best friend, someone you can count on, even if there are miles and miles between you, made of silence and distance.

In some other ways, it’s not like Jughead at all.

It wasn’t really _ easy _ to leave Chicago behind after what happened on New Year’s, three years ago.

The first time, post-New York, Archie took a little while to get over it. He kept waiting for Veronica to contact him, kept looking at the pictures they took as a reminder that everything wasn’t just a dream, turned his head every time he saw a _ glimpse _of a petite girl with black hair on the streets of Chicago, and even went to some Northwestern parties hoping that maybe he’d bump into her. But, after a few months of radio silence, he realized that he couldn’t spend his whole life waiting for a phone call that would never come.

Except, it came. Four years later, but it did.

And that was the hardest part. He had to leave Veronica, understanding that she’d be back to being only the muse of his late-teenage dreams, but _ she _ never really left him again.

She’d text him every now and then, ask him the silliest shit like how the weather was or if he believed in aliens. Archie sent her pictures from their gigs, cat memes, and the occasional drunk **_good night, thinking of u_** text that he always regretted the next day, but that she never held against him.

They never had long conversations about anything, and they didn’t see each other again — especially after Val, Archie chickened out and never went to see Veronica when he visited his parents in Chicago, afraid of getting a little mixed up. The first and only time he called was a few months ago, to tell her about the song.

Archie bites his lip, closing his messaging app. He just likes knowing that she’s there.

They have a meeting with Elio Grande, their manager, at a European-style café close to Venice Beach. Archie thinks Elio is kind of funny, with his tailored suits and bowties, pretending to be some fifties businessman when, in reality, he’s just a couple of years older than them. What matters, though, is that he knows what he’s doing.

When Archie moved to Los Angeles at just twenty-two, with his heart somewhat broken and a head full of dreams, he _ was _ expecting a lot of work and dedication, but the truth is that they didn’t have any idea what to do, where to go. The songs on Spotify and the gigs in Chicago were always something they arranged themselves, but as everything grew, they required some guidance.

Elio provided it all. He helped get them apartments, signed them up for numerous live performances, and chose six of Archie’s best songs to put on an EP released by an independent record label. The next couple of years were like a never-ending tour around the West Coast — playing in festivals, opening for bigger bands like Cold War Kids and Mariana’s Trench, and collaborating with other artists. Earlier this year, Elio thought they should release 11:11 — a song Archie had been perfecting for a long time — as a single, and from there, it blew up.

Now, they apparently have a chance to sign a full-length studio album deal with a big record label.

“Dan Griffin called me from New York,” Elio announces as he takes a sip of his gourmet-coffee-extravaganza from a metal straw. “You know who Griffin is, right?”

Moose’s jaw hangs open. “Republic Records?”

Elio nods, a smug expression on his face, and Kevin turns to Archie, mouthing a silent _ oh, my God_.

“What did he say?” Mad Dog asks.

“He was interested in sitting down with you guys in a few days, hearing what you have to say, and listening to some songs. I arranged the meeting, and now you just have to _ woo _him. I’m sure won’t be a problem for this jaw.” Elio reaches out a hand to touch Moose’s chin. Ever since the beginning, Elio completely ignored that Kevin and Moose were an item, always flirting with one of them. Sometimes, with them both.

Kevin looks at Archie, probably to shoot him a _ canyoubelievethis_ look, but Archie is a bit thunderstruck by the news.

“That’s… Dude, that’s _ huge_. When do we get to meet him?”

Elio snaps back into his _ professional _ persona. “It has to be soon. When are you going to Chicago, again?”

“May 13th,” Archie answers, promptly. It’s his father’s birthday, and Archie’s going to take Val to meet his folks for the first time. “I booked the tickets, but if you want—”

“It _ is _your only clear week this month, so maybe you could cut the trip short? Fly from Chicago to New York, and then back here?”

Archie grimaces but agrees. Val won’t be pleased, but the band comes first. She just has to understand.

“Val!” Archie calls as he walks into the apartment he shares with his girlfriend and Munroe (who stayed behind for drinks with the band). “You won’t believe it!”

“You’re late,” is the reply that comes from the kitchen. Archie shrugs off his jacket and looks around. The living room looks tidy, and their small dining room table is set for four people. He winces as he remembers — Valerie’s brother Trev and his fiancé are supposed to come over.

Archie swallows his good news. “I’m sorry. We had a meeting, and—”

“Did you remember the wine?” She finally emerges from the kitchen. Archie can’t help but feel like a dickhead when he sees her wearing an apron, curly hair up, and her pretty face a bit _annoyed_. Shit, that was the _ only _task she gave him.

Living with Val has kind of been a workshop on growing up. They've been together for a little over a year — she is a kickass singer, working as a backing vocalist for numerous artists as well as playing the keyboard in an all-girl band.

Archie met her during the last Just Like Heaven Festival that The Kazoos were invited to, and she was the first girl that got his attention on the West Coast. They hit it off almost instantly. At one after-party, drunk-him convinced Kevin to join him in a karaoke rendition of Amy Winehouse’s _Valerie_. Things got really intense, after that. Moving in after four months together might have been _too fast_, but they did need a third person to help with the bills. She was always picking up after him, calling him a spoiled only-child more often than not, but she also taught him how to do a bunch of things.

“I forgot,” Archie admits. He learned really quickly that lying to Val _ never _works. He glances down at his watch. They still have half-an-hour before Trev arrives. “You know what? I’ll go get it right now.”

She sighs. Archie figures it’s better if he holds the _ news _about their Chicago trip getting cut short, until tomorrow. “Don’t bother. I already picked it up.”

That makes him frown. “Why did you ask me if I got it, then?”

“Because I knew you would forget it.”

Archie scratches the back of his head. Okay, he forgot what she asked and fucked up, but it’s not like it has happened enough times for it to be a pattern. “Well, that’s somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy then, huh?”

Valerie doesn’t think he’s funny. In fact, she looks suddenly _ pissed_, taking off her apron and throwing it on the kitchen counter. “You know what, Archie? You’re never around. And even when you _ are _ around, you’re still not _ here._”

He knits his eyebrows together. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re right.” She takes a deep breath. “_This _doesn’t make any sense, anymore.”

On the plane — the seat next to him empty, a couple hundred bucks that he'll never get back — Archie tries to write a song about his breakup, the same song he’s been trying to write for the past fifteen days. He names it _ Wasted Love,_ struck out the word _ love _ then wrote it again, and started with the chorus: _ wasted love, wasted love. _

Then, he rips out the page from his lyric notebook, annoyed at himself. It was always so easy for him to pour his feelings into songs. He can’t understand why it’s different this time.

Luckily, he has sufficient drafts to present to Mr. Griffin in three days.

His parents were a bit disappointed that Val didn't join them for Fred’s birthday party. Archie was disappointed too — he broke the rule for her and _ settled _, just to get his ass dumped out of nowhere. He feels like an idiot, now.

Archie lands in O'Hare and decides that, from now on, he’ll stick to the plan: no serious girlfriends before everything is figured out.

It’s spring in Chicago, and the weather is quite nice.

The party isn’t really a party — it’s Fred grilling sausages in the backyard while drinking beers with Jughead’s father and a few other guys that work with him at Andrews Construction. Archie’s mom makes conversation with the other moms, tall glasses of spiked lemonade in their hands.

He's happy to spend time with his parents, especially during his dad’s fiftieth birthday, but something feels off. Maybe he misses the band, used to be around them at all times. Kevin, Moose, and Munroe are already in New York — they decided to spend the weekend, since their meeting is on Tuesday. Maybe he misses Val.

Maybe not.

To be honest, there’s something about coming to Chicago that always makes him feel uneasy.

The feeling lingers and doesn’t let him have much fun, doesn’t let him sleep well. On Sunday, after lunch, he tells his parents he’s going for a walk, needing to be alone. Fred and Mary probably account that as him needing time to deal with the breakup, and they’re probably right.

Archie puts on his headphones, soft acoustic music blocking the noises from the city. He swears his feet work completely alone, disconnected from his brain, when he heads north, the view of Lake Michigan blurred as the train picks up its speed.

Next thing he knows, he’s at a familiar apartment complex in Roger’s Park, his heart suddenly beating at a steady pace, the restlessness fading away.

Veronica doesn’t seem to be home when he rings the bell, but that doesn’t throw him off. He tries to push the gate like she once told him. It’s still broken.

Archie lets himself in and sits on the outdoor patio, the sun warming up his skin as he waits.

The gate opens again about half an hour later, and Archie looks up to see if it’s Veronica. His heart does a stupid thing when he sees that _ yes_, it’s her. She seems distracted, carrying a bunch of colorful fabrics on her arm, as she walks to the door of her ground apartment.

He removes his headphones, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” Archie calls.

Veronica freezes, still turned away from Archie. When she does turn around, there’s a furrow to her brows, like she’s trying to figure out something. She tilts her head slightly, grasping that he really _ is _there, and then, she smiles.

Archie has never seen her wear her hair away from her face, but today, it’s up in a ponytail. It just makes her even more strikingly beautiful.

“Archiekins?” Veronica finally says, smile turning into a chuckle. Archie feels his hands heating up.

_ That’s _what he missed.

“It’s just me now,” Veronica tells him after letting him in. Archie looks around as he stands in the living room, hands in his pockets, experiencing some sort of _ deja vù. _ “I pay Cheryl my rent, but I have plans of maybe buying it.”

Archie lifts his eyebrows. “Really? Finance is going well, then?”

Veronica smiles, shaking her head. “No. You were right. I didn’t want to become my father, but all I did was follow his footsteps, somehow. So, I quit. I finished business school, but only so I had a better notion on how to run my own business.”

It always baffles Archie — with Veronica, it always feels like not a day has passed since the last time they met. And then it suddenly hits him, that they know essentially nothing about each other’s lives, that they don’t really keep tabs on what’s going on. He feels like they should be better friends, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so comfortable around someone.

“Your own business?”

“Yeah.” She bites her lower lip. Archie’s eyes end up lingering on her mouth, because it’s sort of adorable. “Come here, let me show you.”

He follows her around the apartment and listens to her tale. After _ that _New Year’s Eve, it seems like she realized what she was meant to be doing. It started small, selling her own items on Etsy and then working on commission, until the whole thing kind of exploded.

“I took a course and started to _ actually _design clothes, from start to finish. The unique stuff is still what sells better, but I mean, I kinda have a brand now. It’s crazy. This is where I keep all the stuff.” She opens one of the rooms that once belonged to one of her roommates. Now, there are shelves with different fabrics on them, all color and texture coordinated. There are also racks with finished items inside plastic bags, tagged with different names.

“And here.” Veronica opens another room. It’s turned into somewhat of an office now. There’s a mood board on one of the walls, filled with different photographs and magazine clippings, and a modern sewing machine right in the middle. “This is where the magic happens.”

It’s all very impressive.

“I’m gonna launch a website in a couple of weeks. I still do everything myself, but I’ll probably have to hire someone. I’m terrified.”

Archie glances over at her, an honest smile tugging at his lips. He feels _ really proud_, as proud as he often feels when he listens to his own song on the radio. “That’s awesome, Ronnie. You _ own _ a fashion line. It’s insane.”

“Yeah.” She heaves out a breath, walking back to the living room. She glances over her shoulder and smiles at him again, almost bashful. If he didn’t know her, he’d think that she’s _ nervous._ “So, what brings Jon Bon Jovi himself to my humble home?”

Archie chuckles, following her. He thinks she might mention the random phone call, or text messages, but it’s a relief that she doesn’t. “I’m in town until tomorrow, and I thought—” he stops himself, shaking his head. There’s no point in pretending. He sighs. “I _ am _in town until tomorrow, but my girlfriend dumped me. I guess I just needed to see a familiar face.”

“Oh.”

Archie isn’t sure if she sounds _ disappointed_. He remembers how disappointed _ he was _ three years ago when he realized she just wanted to use him to make Asian James Dean jealous, but ultimately, he decided he didn’t care — just being around her made it all worth it.

He throws himself on the couch. After this _ oh_, perhaps he should take a hint and _ not _ unload his problems on Veronica, but he just _ knows _ she’ll understand his need to vent. As crazy as it sounds, given the fact that they've spent less than forty-eight hours together in seven years, he considers her one of his closest friends.

“I didn’t even know we were having problems,” he says, running his hand through his hair. Veronica sits next to him, crossing her legs and listening intently. “Have you ever felt like this? One day, she was completely fine, then the other, I forget to buy wine and _ bam. _Suddenly, I’m never there.”

“Well… _ Were _you there?”

Archie looks over at her. She doesn’t sound condescending or judgmental, just honestly curious. He ends up shrugging. “Yeah. I mean, I tried to be. The band takes up most of my time, but she knew that. She’s a musician too, so I honestly thought she’d understand how hard it can be, you know.”

Veronica nods slowly, her gaze drifting as if she’s lost in thought for a moment. Archie leans his head on the backrest, feeling sad for being sad.

She rubs his shoulder in a friendly touch, and Archie decides to ignore that her touch feels like a jolt. “You know what, Archie. People suck,” she says in such simplicity that it makes him chuckle. “I am a firm believer that when something is yours, it will come back to you.”

“Do you think so?” He turns his head. Veronica’s sitting quite close to him. Last time they were here, it took her _ exactly _four and a half minutes to jump him, a kiss that took his breath away completely, but something makes Archie wonder if they have outgrown this phase. He allows his gaze to wander down to her lips.

She’s the one who ruins the moment, blowing out a deep, tired sigh.

“C’mon,” she says under her breath. “We should get some pancakes. Nothing like breakfast in the middle of the afternoon to cheer people up.”

Veronica has a car now, a used Triumph TR6 from the seventies. She tells him that she bought it last year, when the business started to ignite and a dealership close to her house was shutting down. It’s vintage and black, with a red interior, and the thing that comes to Archie’s mind when he gets in the passenger seat is that the car kind of looks like her.

“There’s no Bluetooth, though,” she announces as she turns on the engine. “I’ll let you pick the station.”

Archie doesn’t have it in him to listen to music right now, but he turns the radio on anyway. There’s some ballad that he doesn’t care for playing at a low volume. He can feel Veronica making a face, but she doesn’t change the station as she starts to drive.

They pull up ten minutes later to an IHOP. The place is a little busy, not what Archie really wanted — he isn’t even hungry — but he follows Veronica to a booth nonetheless. He sits across from her and looks out the window while she checks the menu.

“We could go wild and have a _ tres leches _one, or even Italian cannoli…”

Archie takes a deep breath. Val used to make pancakes for breakfast sometimes, before she hopped on the gluten-free train. Then, it got really annoying because she would sigh every time he came home with the wrong kind of bread.

“…or maybe cupcake ones with a side of _ fuck-my-dumb-ex_?” Veronica says, lowering the menu and wiggling her eyebrows at him. Archie feels the corner of his lips pulling up into a glimmer of a smile. Veronica laughs. “C’mon, Archiekins. You just gotta let it go. I had my first breakup when I was seven, and I survived.”

“Seven?”

“Oh, yeah. Tommy Davis, in the second grade.” She shakes her head briefly. “We shared our lunch every day, and he gave me flowers once. I was sure he was the one for me. I even gave him a valentine, only to find out that he gave _ his _to Patti Rodriguez. So yeah, when it’s over, it’s over,” she concludes.

Archie heaves out another breath. He knows she’s just trying to make him feel better, but he _ is _still bummed.

“Okay, enough.” Veronica sets the menu down and reaches out a hand towards his face. She pulls up the corner of his mouth, forcing a smile to his lips. “Smile. You’re here, now. With me!”

The way she says it, and the softness in her eyes, makes him let out a chuckle that soon turns into a bigger, more sincere smile. There are wisps of hair falling around her pretty face. He has never noticed it before, but she has two small, parallel moles on the left side of her collarbone. 

“There it is.” Veronica pulls back when she sees his genuine smile. “That’s the one.”

“Hi!” A woman approaches their table and greets Veronica before Archie can open his mouth to say _ thank you._ Before he looks, he thinks it’s the waiter, but then Veronica’s mouth hangs open and she stands.

“H— oh, my God, _ B!_” Veronica says, excitedly. Archie looks up and recognizes Veronica’s former roommate, Betty. She was at the New Year’s party, wearing a pale pink dress. Archie spent a portion of that party with Dilton, her then boyfriend, the first fan that ever recognized him. Betty is wearing pale pink again, but she doesn’t seem to notice Archie is at the table, when she hugs Veronica. “I didn’t know you were back in Chicago! How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m good. Yeah, it’s been such a long time.” Betty pulls back and puts her hands in her back pockets. “I came back almost a year ago, but you know—”

“Yeah, sure, life gets hectic.” Archie watches Veronica nod, understandingly. She seems honestly excited to see her old friend, and it gets him smiling a bit more. He glances down at the menu, not wanting to interrupt the reunion. “Did you change your number? We should get together sometime. There’s so much I need to tell you.”

“No, it’s the same. I’m gonna text you.” Betty’s voice sounds almost nervous. “I think it would be good if we could talk.”

“Sure, I—”

“Hey, babe,” a man’s voice comes from behind Betty and interrupts the conversation, “do you have a couple of bucks to tip the waitress?”

Archie looks away from the menu, his jaw dropping. _ No way. _With his hand on Betty’s lower back, there is Asian James Dean — what was his name again? He quickly looks at Veronica who is clearly as taken aback as he is. She blinks rapidly, her throat moving when she swallows.

“Reggie…” Betty warns, touching the guy’s arm. That’s when _ Reggie _seems to notice Veronica standing right there. He huffs out a nervous laugh.

“V, hey,” he greets. “How’s everything going?”

“I’m good,” Veronica answers. It might be believable to everyone else, but Archie notices how her voice is suddenly a lot smaller than before. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I was gonna sneak on by,” Betty takes over, scratching the back of her head, “but then I saw you. So I figured you’d seen us, and you know…”

“Oh, no.” Veronica smiles, clearly trying to shake it off. She looks down briefly and then back at the couple. “It’s good that you said hello. Both of you.”

Betty seems relieved. “I knew that you’d be okay with it,” she says, wrapping one arm around Reggie’s side. “I mean, it’s been such a long time since you—”

“No, I’m glad that you two—”

Archie decides to intervene before Veronica says something she doesn’t mean, or want, to say. He gets up quickly and pushes his hand out to Reggie. “Hi, man. Archie.”

There’s a slight glint in Reggie’s eyes that show that he recalls him from three years ago. During the entirety of that party, Reggie shot him some irritated looks as Archie danced with, and kissed, Veronica on the dancefloor. Still, he shakes Archie’s hand with a tense smile on his face. “Reggie.”

“_Archie!_” Betty seems much more pleased to see him. She grins and shakes his hand, apparently grateful that he’s still around in Veronica’s life.

“Good to see you again.” Archie stands next to Veronica, holding her by the waist.

Reggie turns to Betty, who’s still beaming at the sight of Archie and Veronica together. “Babe, we should go if we want to catch the—”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll text you, V,” she says, but Reggie is already dragging her by the hand towards the exit.

“Nice meeting you!” Archie calls before they disappear through the door. Next to him, Veronica is frozen, _ shocked_. “What were you saying about _ tres leches _pancakes?” he asks, giving her waist a squeeze.

She looks like she has a headache. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Thank God.”

Veronica drives them up the lakeshore. There’s some traffic, and she seems _ pissed,_ because she keeps honking at every car that slides in front of hers. “_Madre de Dios, _these Sunday drivers…”

Archie has been silently laughing ever since they left IHOP. “C’mon. Let it go.” He feels her eyes sweeping from the road to him, then back at the road. “You’re here with me. Smile.”

She throws him an icy look. “Shut up.”

He snorts. “Maybe now we’ll bump into Tommy Davis.”

Veronica doesn’t seem to want to, but she ends up cracking up. The sound of her laughter fills the car and echoes in Archie’s brain. For a moment, it doesn’t matter that Val dumped him — all that matters is that Veronica keeps on smiling. 

“So, where are we going?” Archie asks when they cross a bridge that he’s pretty sure ends on a highway.

Veronica shrugs. “We’ll head north.”

“You know, it’s not like I even _ care _about Reggie at this point,” she rants as they drive up the I-290, passing by Highland Park. "I just think he’s really funny.”

“Who’s really funny?” Archie asks, distracted as he looks around, his mind working overdrive on how to get Veronica out of this funk — he thinks about making comparisons with _ his _shitty relationship, but just considering revisiting some stuff gets him tired.

“_Reggie_.” She clicks her tongue. Without having any better weapons, Archie turns on the radio. The station they were listening to in Chicago is already off the air, so he tries to tune into another one. “When he broke up with me, he said that I wasn’t _ fun enough _for him, or whatever, and now what happens?”

“Huh…” Archie is only half-listening. There’s only a couple of stations working, so he settles for the best song, grinning as he recognizes it. _ “...he takes off her dress now, leeeet meee goo…” _

“Now he’s dating _ Betty Cooper_…”

_ “I just can’t look, it’s killing me! And taaaking control.” _Archie starts singing along, a little bit louder than the radio. He can see an annoyed smile ghosting on Veronica’s lips.

“Betty Cooper, Archie,” Veronica goes on. Archie keeps on singing and turns up the volume a notch. She starts speaking louder. “The _ least _fun person I have ever met!”

_ “Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your aaaalibis...” _

“Do you know that one time she spent like, the entire spring break putting together a fucking puzzle? The puzzle was a forest!” Veronica keeps talking, louder and louder as Archie keeps turning up the volume until the song is blasting through the speakers. He’s singing louder too. 

_ “Destiny is caaalling mee… Open up my eager eyeeees…” _

“Not _ Paris,_ not the _Big Ben,_ just a plain…”

_ “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta, gotta be down...” _

“…boring…”

_ “Started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this...” _

Veronica stops and laughs at how he’s reaching the higher notes and dancing along to the beat, shaking his shoulders. Archie follows her laughter. She stops trying to yell over the song and rolls her eyes. The next time she opens her mouth is to join him in belting out The Killers.

_ “IT WAS ONLY A KISS, IT WAS ONLY A KISS!”_

The sun is setting when they stop at a gas station at the I-43 and I-94 junction. They’ve been driving for over two hours, already out of Illinois and into Wisconsin. The spring sky is painted with different shades of pink and blue.

From the convenience store window, in line after picking up a bunch of snacks, Archie watches as Veronica fills up the gas tank. Whenever he witnesses her doing mundane things, he remembers that she could be living a comfortable, spoiled life, but traded it all away in the name of her integrity.

Veronica catches him watching her and makes a gesture, signaling for him to pay for the gas as well. He rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I bought a little bit of everything,” Archie says when he gets back to the car, hands overflowing with junk food and a bottle of wine.

“Guess it pays off to be around Bon Jovi,” she jokes as she reaches for a bag of cookies.

He laughs. “Nah, I saved that hundred dollars you paid me just for this date.”

She gives him a pointed glance. “Not a date.”

Archie steals one of her cookies. “Never.”

Three and a half hours after leaving Chicago behind, Veronica decides to stop at a little town called Two Rivers. She pulls over at a little hotel by the lake shore, _ The Lighthouse Inn._

“There’s no way we’re driving back tonight. We can leave first thing in the morning,” Veronica explains, sounding a little tired as she unbuckles her seatbelt. Archie doesn’t disagree — it’s a long way back.

At the front desk, Veronica asks for a room with twin beds while Archie texts his dad to let him know that he’ll only be back around lunchtime. His flight to New York is tomorrow, late-afternoon, so he imagines there’ll be plenty of time.

They drop their stuff — just their car keys and phones, also a necessaire Veronica had in the glove compartment _ for emergencies _— in their twin room. It’s simple, not much furniture except for the beds, nightstands with old lamps, and a mirror. The comforter is a floral, pink and white, reminding Archie of his grandma’s house.

He sits at the edge of his bed while he waits for her to use the bathroom. The thought of spending the night with Veronica, even if in separate beds, makes Archie slightly ill at ease. He can’t pinpoint why — they have spent the night together before, on the naked mattress of his old loft, while she was passed out drunk and he tried to stay on his side of the bed. He’s also not uncomfortable around her, at all, even when years have gone by. It’s just _ something _ winding low in his throat, _ something_; a scratch, a twinge.

She gets out of the bathroom looking refreshed, in a white tee instead of the intricate blouse she was wearing before, and her hair down, straight and shoulder-length. Before Archie can think about saying anything, she takes the bottle of wine he bought.

“Let’s go to the shore.”

They just need to cross the road to reach the lake shore. Veronica takes off her shoes, and Archie watches as she digs her toes in the cold sand. They sit side by side and she closes her eyes for a second, the cool breeze blowing her hair away from her face.

There are a bunch of stars in the sky, and it reminds Archie of a song he listened to once: _ the sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it_. He smiles briefly. It's a good song.

Thankfully, the wine is cheap and doesn’t have a cork, so all Archie needs to do is unscrew the cap.

“Why did you forget the wine?” Veronica asks when he passes her the bottle after taking a sip. He frowns. “Your girlfriend,” she explains in the face of his confusion. _Oh_. It occurs to Archie that he hasn’t even _thought_ about Val for the past couple of hours. “You said she dumped you because you forgot the wine.”

Archie takes a long, deep breath, exhaling slowly. The lake’s surface is dark at this hour, small waves crashing onto the shore.

“I had a meeting earlier that day, with our manager. He was talking about some important things for the band, and I don’t know.” He takes back the wine bottle from her hand. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “Val said that I was never there. Like, that my _ body _was there, but everything else…” Archie takes a sip. “I guess she was right.”

Veronica’s hair is starting to curl as the breeze blows. “Did you love her?” she asks, looking at the lake.

“Maybe,” he answers honestly, thinking back on lazy mornings with her, jamming together, strolls by the beach. He enjoyed her company, even though she had a way of making him feel immature sometimes. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.” He passes the wine bottle to Veronica, who’s wearing a curious expression. “Sounds stupid when I say it aloud.”

She seems to consider his answer as she drinks, the shape of her lips leaving Archie with a dry mouth.

“Did you love Reggie?” he decides to ask. It’s a thing that has always been in the back of his mind.

She chortles. “No. But I _ wanted _ him, so that meant he had to be mine,” Veronica explains as she shrugs her shoulders. “I feel like Reggie was the last streak of the girl I once was, the one that had never heard the word _ no _before.”

Archie grins. She always seemed so determined, so sure of herself. He wonders if he’d ever look at something with such distance and detachment. A girl like her, so smart and so sure, could conquer the world, change it, reign over it.

After that, Veronica changes the subject, asking him about living in California and celebrities he’s seen or met. They talk about constellations and the lifespan of stars, different galaxies, and alternate universes. They laugh over the fact that _ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy _is the only book Archie enjoyed (besides Harry Potter), while Veronica has read all the classics, in English and Spanish.

The wine bottle is almost empty when Veronica holds her knees close to her chest. “So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she starts, looking over at Archie with glossy eyes and a smile on her face that’s_ almost _shy.

“Shoot,” Archie responds, the wine bottle one inch from his lips.

“Who’s the girl with dirty blonde hair? Is it Val?”

_ Dirty blonde hair? _Archie frowns, wondering for a second what she means, but then it hits him. He feels the right corner of his lips pulling up. “You remember my song?”

“I don’t have much choice when it plays on the radio every time I tune in.” Veronica hides her growing smile in the crook of her arms, and Archie feels all the muscles in his face softening when he looks at her shiny eyes wrinkling. “C’mon. Who is she?”

He sets the wine bottle down, breathing in deeply. “The original lyrics didn’t go that way. Munroe changed them so it would fit the melody better,” he confesses as he exhales. Veronica looks curious, sitting up straighter.

Archie thinks the wine probably got to his brain, not believing what he’s about to do — how deep he is about to reach inside of himself, into a part that he hasn’t visited in _ such _a long time, ever since Val found some song drafts about perfect days and brown eyes.

_ “And you weren’t even trying_,” he sings softly, heart pounding inside his chest. _ “Your jet-black hair had me going wild.” _

Veronica stares at him intently, a gentle crease forming between her eyebrows.

_ “I was a little bit shy, then,” _ Archie continues, although, at this point, he’s reciting the lyrics more than singing. _ “There’s no denying something so true…” _

“Archie,” Veronica mutters. He clenches his jaw, regretting what he’s about to say before he even says it, but he can’t deny it; everything is pouring out of him.

“They’re all about you, Ronnie,” he blurts out under his breath. Veronica parts her lips, her breath hitching. “When I met you, I—”

She doesn’t let him go on. She cups his cheek and leans in. pressing her mouth against his. The kiss is soft, her lower lip between his, and it lasts only a few seconds. Veronica pulls back, still furrowing her eyebrows, her eyes searching his.

_ Clarity. _That’s what he feels while looking at her in that moment. Whatever he’s looking for, whatever he’s supposed to feel, there it is. Just like that.

Their decision to go back to the Inn is silent. Veronica gets up and tells him to go with her without even saying a word. Archie’s chest _ hurts _with how hard his heart is beating, his blood buzzing in expectation. The walk between the lakeshore and their room is the longest path he’s ever tread.

She opens the door, pulling him inside. They’re not four steps into the bedroom when he feels all of his self-control snapping and kisses her hard, their tongues immediately meeting, her hands on his back, nails making indentations in his shirt.

Archie reaches down to grab the back of her thighs to haul her up, her legs around his hips. He walks them back, setting her down on one of the beds, and she gasps into his mouth when their hips align: a soft, breathy sound.

“Is this what you want?” Archie finds it in himself to ask quietly, looking at her parted mouth and hazy eyes.

“Yes,” she pants, trembling hands on his chest then down his body, reaching to unbutton his jeans.

As fast as he can, Archie pulls off his shirt and kicks his pants aside. She’s wearing a skirt, tan thighs around him, but that's the only skin she’s showing — he needs more. There’s a vague memory of the moment they shared once upon a time in an airport bathroom, something that he replayed inside his mind over and over again, but this time has to be different. He isn’t sure what they’re doing, or where they’re going from here, but he needs to get her naked.

Veronica reaches to touch his abs, and he trembles, his muscles tightening. Archie leans on top of her, kissing her again, long and deep, as his hands start to slide her shirt up. Veronica rolls her hips against his, her center warm and wet beneath her underwear. “Ronnie,” he groans into her mouth.

She lifts her back so he can take off her shirt. Once it's gone, Archie’s mouth travels down her neck, scraping his teeth over her skin. He reaches behind her to unhook her bra, desperate to feel her hard nipples against his chest, to indulge in her warm skin, to finally _ see _how she looks like.

Even though Archie is painfully hard, he slows down for a second, pulling back to look at her body. He slides his hands all over her, shoulders to breasts, palming her nipples, and then down to her hips so he can remove her skirt, leaving her only in her panties. Veronica lifts her hips so he can take that off too, and he isn’t ready for the image in front of him.

He tries to memorize her, curves and lines, the way her teeth is sinking into her lower lip, but there’s no way he's standing still for long — he’s _ so hard_; he wants _ her_. He needs to put his mouth on her skin and learn the way she tastes, remember the way she feels tightening around him.

As if reading his mind, Veronica sits up and pulls him by the neck into a bruising kiss. Archie shimmies out of his boxers, her tiny hands all over his body. She wraps one hand around him, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. This is too much. He _ wants _the foreplay, wants to kiss every inch of Veronica’s skin, but at the same time—

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” Archie mumbles, one of his hands reaching in between her legs so he can touch her. His forefinger starts to circle her clit, collecting wetness from her center to make the motion easier, and her moans, paired with the way she starts to pump him, makes him forget his name, but not hers. “_Veronica_…”

“I need you inside of me, Archie,” she whispers in his ear as she moves her hand faster. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to control himself and still keep on touching her, but after a few seconds she’s muttering about a condom in her pouch.

He rolls it on with almost shaky hands and comes back on top of her to kiss her, groaning when she grinds against him. Veronica nudges his body with hers, flipping them over. She straddles his lap and sinks onto him without much notice.

“Oh fuck, Ronnie,” he groans loudly and looks at her rolling her hips, her hands on his chest and her lashes fluttering. Archie sits up, searching her skin with his mouth, kissing down her neck, towards her chest. He catches a nipple between his lips, drawing it into his mouth. Veronica’s hands sink into his hair, gripping it tightly. Her back arches, and she rides him, their pace building up, the most beautiful sounds coming out of her mouth.

“_Archie_,” she whimpers as she moves, nails clutching at his shoulders, his mouth on the curve of her neck. “Archie, _ yes, yes_, Archie…”

“I’m not gonna last like this,” he breathes out into her ear, grabbing the flesh on her ass, reveling in all the warmth of her skin.

“Me too. Please, Archie…” Veronica kisses him, biting on his lower lip, and when her hips start to falter, he takes over, meeting her thrusts faster and faster until they’re both falling over the edge, his orgasm hitting him so hard, he sees black for a moment.

Archie hides his face on her sweaty skin, taking her hair in his hand and pushing it to the side so he can kiss the curve of her neck. She wraps her arms around his torso, and he lets his fingers thread through her black strands. “I don’t want to stop,” he mutters.

Veronica is still vibrating through the aftershocks of her orgasm when she pulls back to look at him through dark, thick eyelashes and hooded brown eyes. “Kiss me,” she demands.

He does.

Archie drives the way back.

He can’t keep himself from stealing continuous glances at Veronica in the passenger’s seat: leaning her head on the window frame, the wind flying through her hair. She’s been really quiet since they woke up wrapped up in each other’s arms, speaking only the necessary, and Archie doesn’t know what to do.

Last night was so fucking amazing, but in the face of her silence, Archie now wonders if it was _ too much _. He didn’t think things would get _ weird _ if they gave into each other, but there’s a knot in his throat that prevents him from asking if everything is good between them. Or where they stand. _ If _they stand somewhere.

Thing is, he can’t promise her much, not with a flight to New York that can change his entire future booked for a few hours from now. He’s told her about his meeting with Dan Griffin from fucking Republic Records, about the chance for The Kazoos to finally land a big record deal, about all his dreams starting to come true. She knows all about it.

And, maybe, she doesn’t _ want _ him to promise her anything.

He turns on the radio when the silence gets unbearable.

Back at Veronica’s apartment, Archie waits for her to make a business phone call while sitting in the living room, fidgeting with a glass of water in his hands. He stands up promptly when she comes out of the office. They look at each other, and her eyes are soft and tired.

He wants to say that he doesn’t _ want _ to leave her, that staying with her meant _ everything _to him, but when he opens his mouth, “I called for the Lyft,” is what comes out.

Veronica smiles gently and nods, leading him through her door. _ Idiot, _ Archie thinks as he stares at her back while she walks, _ you’re a fucking idiot, Archie Andrews. _

They stand at the gate waiting for the car. Archie opens his mouth again, knowing that he _ needs _to say something. “Ronnie, I— this meeting in New York—”

She shakes her head, smiling a little. “I get it. We’re good.”

“We are?” Archie asks, unsure. It doesn’t _ feel _ like they’re good — she doesn’t seem to be on the verge of falling apart or anything, but she isn’t acting all that normal. And what does ‘_we’re good’ _ even mean, at this point? Are they together? He isn’t sure if — well, it is what he _ wants_, but he isn’t sure if it’s the right _ time_, all things considered.

“Yeah. You’ve got my number. I’ve got yours… Let’s use them for real.”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll let you know how things go with the label.”

Her smile gets bigger and teasing, more like _his_ Ronnie's smile. “You’ll knock them dead, Bon Jovi.” Archie heaves out a breath, feeling relieved somehow. He opens his mouth again, probably to say something stupid, because Veronica stops him. “Don’t ruin it.”

The Lyft pulls up next to where they’re standing. Archie bites his lower lip and takes a step closer to her, leaning down to kiss her, lips brushing for a few seconds. Archie keeps his eyes closed, wanting to memorize the feeling of her mouth against his. When he opens them, she still has hers shut.

“Go,” she whispers when she opens them, their foreheads lingering together for a second.

Archie takes a deep breath to gather the strength to pull away. He takes another look at her before getting into the car, a coy smile on his lips.

She chuckles. “Get out of here. I’m sick of you.”

The meeting with Dan Griffin is _ fast. _ He asks the band about their drive to succeed but has to interrupt the answer to take a phone call before they even start. When they look at Elio, searching for an explanation, the manager merely winks at them and shakes his head, silently saying that _ this is normal. _

The phone call ends, and the question changes — Griffin wants to hear their demo, “not the catchy one in the radio.” Once he listens to half a song, the phone rings again, and the guy says he’ll get back to them in a week. He also tells someone to give them tickets to a Yankees game, while they’re in the city.

In the hotel room he’s sharing with Mad Dog, Archie texts Veronica: ** _label guy listened to a song and got a second meeting next week… also got tickets to the mbl! :)_ **

She sees his text quite soon, but only answers a few hours later, with a smile and a heart. Archie, who had anticipated her reply the entire day, feels weirdly let down. He was definitely expecting her to engage in conversation, after the way they left things.

Veronica doesn’t really say anything else until three days later, when he’s fresh out the shower, drying his hair with a towel, the steam fogging up the hotel bathroom’s mirror. His phone vibrates and his heart jumps when he sees it’s her calling.

He answers after a few rings.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” Veronica’s voice comes over the line. Archie clenches his jaw, not sure if he’s upset by the silence, confused, or if he just misses her. “Are you still in New York?”

“Yeah. Like I told you in the text, I’m leaving next week. Meeting went well I guess, so we’re getting a second one.”

“That’s great, Archie,” Veronica says, and the sound of her voice makes Archie frown. It’s small, troubled, and almost distant.

“Ronnie? Are you okay?”

“Can you do something for me, Archiekins?”

“Did you find it?” Veronica asks as she breathes in deeply. Archie swallows hard as he looks at the gravestone in the New York Marble Cemetery. _ Hermione Apollonia Lodge, beloved daughter, wife & mother_. The dates engraved show two things: she was born today, and she passed away when Veronica was barely seventeen, one year before she met him on that flight.

“Y—yeah, Ronnie,” he clears his throat, “I found it.”

“How does it look?”

Archie feels his heart beating fast. It looks like a grave. Like a reminder that someone Veronica loved very much is gone forever. But it’s taken care of, the grass looks green; the birds are chirping. The sky is blue, and the sunlight is filtering through the trees. “It's nice.” His voice comes out firmer.

“What kind of flowers did you get?”

Archie looks at the bouquet in his hand. “Purple.”

“That’s perfect,” he hears a soft smile in Veronica’s voice and feels another one tugging at his lips. There’s silence after that, followed by a quiet sob. Archie sighs. He sets the bouquet down and then sits down in front of the gravestone.

“I’m so sorry, Ronnie,” Archie feels compelled to say. Veronica sniffs when they stay in silence for a long minute.

“Say something,” she asks.

He sighs. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say anything.”

Archie searches for something inside his mind. “So, there’s a little boy in his backyard, digging a hole. His neighbor, an old lady, comes out to water her garden and sees him, so she asks what he’s doing. He’s really sad and he says, _ I’m digging a grave for my goldfish_. The old lady thinks _ oh, that’s so sweet _ but then gets a little confused and asks, _ if it’s for your goldfish, why are you digging a grave so big? _ And the little boy replies, _ that’s because my goldfish is inside your stupid cat.” _

“Oh, my God,” he hears Veronica say after a moment. “That’s horrible,” she says, but then she lets out a laugh. “That’s a horrible joke.”

Archie laughs quietly too. “I know. I couldn’t sleep for days when I first heard it.”

“Who told you that?” Veronica asks, still cackling.

“Kevin.” 

“Tell me about the meeting,” she says, her voice a little lighter. Archie bites his lip. He was an idiot for being mad before when she was only trying to deal with her mother’s birthday coming soon, but he’s glad to make her smile on such a day.

They get the record deal.

Archie can’t believe how easy it is — one minute they’re sitting down in a big office with floor-to-ceiling windows, and the next Dan Griffin is shaking their hands, congratulating them on their next step.

Kevin, Archie, Moose, and Munroe jump around Broadway, shoving each other and yelling, the kind of happiness that you only hear about. They go into the first bar they spot and get impossibly drunk on tequila shots, screaming the lyrics to their own songs, equally bothering and amusing everyone around them.

Archie ends up throwing up in the toilet, and Mad Dog tries to help him. They both fall to the floor laughing, in true rock star fashion, but there’s only one thing on Archie’s mind.

“I,” Archie’s words tumble out of his mouth, “_love_ her. Love her, man. I’m in big fucking trouble.”

Mad Dog snorts. “Yeah, you are.”

“Shut up,” Archie shoves him playfully, his drunk mind not realizing that Munroe might not be onto what he's trying to say. “She’s the love of my life.”

“Okay, okay, why don’t you tell_ her _ that?”

Archie frowns. That’s a good question. “I will,” he says, getting his phone from his pocket and trying to unlock it so he can find Veronica’s number and _ tell her _how much he loves her, because he should’ve done it a week ago when they were in bed together, but then Mad Dog grabs his phone from his hand.

“Fuck dude, you’re not drunk texting your ex right now,” he says, already getting up and taking the phone away from Archie before he can fully understand what’s going on.

* * *

**( 28 )**

_ ‘Cause all that’s left has gone away  
__and _ _t__here’s nothing there for you to do_

Veronica skims her fingers over the books on the shelves. She’s searching for a book that will make her a better drawer — she’s really good at everything else, but when it comes to drawing the models _herself_, it’s kind of a tragedy.

The website has been a major success, but with the brand getting more and more attention from the press, now there are investors in the game — and they want to see her sketches. If she’s opening a physical store, it has to be with her _own _creations instead of other people’s work that she puts together. She has many good ideas; she just needs to _ learn_.

She finds the author she’s looking for and reaches for the book, but it’s too high for her, even in her high heels.

“Do you want me to get that for you?”

Veronica turns around to see who asked. He looks _ good, _dark skin and full lips that are turned up in a coy smile. “What a gentleman. Thank you.”

He easily grabs the book off the higher shelf. Veronica admires his physique as he does that — she’s never been intimidated by handsome men, but it’s been a while since one has _ really _caught her attention.

_ “Gertie’s New Fashion Sketchbook,_” he reads the title intently. Veronica frowns at his obvious snooping. “Body-positive design. Nice.”

“I’m trying to learn how to be better at drawing,” she says as she takes the book from his hand, looking up at him. Flirting comes naturally, all muscle memory, and it probably works, because the guy is suddenly giving her a crooked smile.

“Gertie is good, but her sketcher is Sun Young Park, who uses a lot of complex eastern lines,” he says. Veronica almost rolls her eyes at the mansplaining, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother her as much as one would think. He seems to catch the look on her face. “I’m sorry. I teach creative drawing, so I end up saying stuff like that.”

“Well, Mr. Teacher. Any books you’d recommend?”

He chuckles, a big, beautiful smile across his face. “It’s Chuck.”

Veronica’s sewing a flower applique to a denim jacket when the apartment door opens, startling her, and she sticks her finger with the needle. Cheryl walks into the living room like a red whirlwind.

“Tell me everything. Hide nothing,” she says, already opening the fridge, looking for a bottle of white wine.

“Tell you what?” Veronica asks, sucking on her fingertip as a reflex. Even though she managed to buy Cheryl’s apartment over a year ago, her friend still has a spare key, and she for sure uses it.

“Your hot date with hot _ Art Institute _professor.”

Veronica chuckles, putting the jacket aside and removing her glasses. “We had lunch _once,_ so far. It was nice.”

“_Nice_? Nice is when I manage to book all my spa treatments in a single day.” Cheryl lifts one eyebrow as she pours them wine. Veronica laughs a little, accepting the drink when her friend comes closer. It brings her back to when they were roommates with Betty, gossiping about random dates in the middle of an afternoon. “I want the tea.”

“There’s no _tea_. We have things in common. Chuck looks and smells great, he was nothing but a proper gentleman… I’m waiting to see if the desire to go on a second date sparks.”

“Ugh,” Cheryl sounds frustrated, but she clinks her glass with Veronica’s before taking a sip, “you and your _ sparks _thing. Didn’t that failed attempt to be a groupie teach you something?”

Veronica smiles softly, almost a bit wistful. “You know that isn’t what happened,” she says, drinking too.

Cheryl rolls her eyes. “No. What happened is that your rockstar project broke up with you via phone call, and you keep waiting for—”

“He didn’t break up with me,” Veronica interrupts, trying hard not to think about said phone call, about Archie trying to explain how he’ll be living in two different cities (none of which were Chicago) for who knows how long, that he’ll be busy as fuck, that the band needs him more than ever. She remembers saying _yeah, it’s okay _ to every word he babbled, and how her stomach ached permanently for months after hanging up with _ I guess this is goodbye for now_. “We weren’t _together._ We were just friends who had a one-night-stand and got mixed up for a second.”

Veronica repeated this line so many times in the past three years, that she thinks _she _believes it, now.

“Friends. Right.”

The thing is — Cheryl wouldn’t understand if Veronica tried to explain. It’s one of those things that _no one _ would understand. That day, and throughout the years, Veronica and Archie shared something else other than a bed and each other's bodies. There was some sort of understanding, a _ connection, _ that she couldn’t explain. Even after he decided that trying anything with her would be way too complicated, even after years of radio silence, she knows that if he showed up at her door this very moment, she would let him in, no questions asked. And somehow, it feels like it would be the same for her if _she _ever gathered up the courage to get onto a flight and break into the backstage of some place she knows The Kazoos have been.

They did stop texting after a couple of months post-phone call, though. Veronica was the one who asked him to stop showing up every two weeks because otherwise, she’d never fully move on. Sometimes, she regrets that decision, but mostly not. His band is always playing on the radio now, that first song that he said was about her and others that she's tried not to pay attention to.

Veronica only wishes him good things.

“Cher, I appreciate you taking care of me, but I’m okay. I have so much going on right now, with _ Apollonia _expanding and the shop. My hands are full. I don’t really want or need a partner right now.”

There have been dates after Archie, sex dates and proper dates; when Cheryl and Sheila got married in Marbella, Veronica found some sexy, disposable Spanish guy and slept at his house for two whole weeks. But none of them have ever made her _feel something._

None of them were…

“That’s okay, and I’m not asking you to marry this guy,” Cheryl says, placing both hands on Veronica’s shoulders, tenderly touching the curls at the ends of her hair. “I’m just saying that the spark is not going to ignite if you don’t _try._ Just go on a second date. Have fun, dress up.”

Veronica purses her lips. She hates when her friends get into that condescending mode, but at the same time, she knows it comes from a place of love. “I did make a new cute skirt that I need to wear.”

It brings an honest smile to Cheryl’s face. “Good. Now that you mention it, how many of these jackets are you going to make? Any chance they come in red?”

The same day The Kazoos announce their second album, is the day that Veronica invites Chuck to go on a second date.

It’s unrelated. She doesn’t even hear the news, doesn’t turn on the radio, doesn’t know that their newest hit is called _ Time to Start Again,_ doesn’t know what that means, if Archie was the one who wrote it.

She just knows, when she wakes up, that it’s time to start again.

* * *

**( 29 )**

_ I really never felt quite the same, since I’ve lost what I had to gain  
_ _No one to blame, no one to blame_

“He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the music. He just cares about his di—”

“Oh, wait a minute. You cheat on me with Elio, and I’m the one who just cares about my dick?”

“I cheated on you with Elio because _ you _cheated on me with Elio!”

Archie heaves out an exasperated sigh, looking up at Munroe, whose eyes are equally as wide. He silently begs for his friend to say something — he’s always been the brains of the group — but Mad Dog lifts both his hands in a gesture that means _ I have nothing._

“Uh, if you two cheated on each other with the same guy,” Archie starts, eyes switching from Moose to Kevin, “doesn’t it cancel out?”

“I can’t do this,” Kevin says, shaking his head vehemently. Both Archie and Mad Dog frown, but Moose looks _ irritated. _ “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do this anymore?” Moose asks.

“I can’t do this. I can’t. I quit.”

“Kevin!” Archie runs after him once he storms out of the studio. “Dude! What the hell?!”

Kevin turns around, his green eyes shining too bright. Archie searches his face, trying to understand what he means. He can’t be serious.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Arch. I— I _ can’t._ I’m— I wanna go home. I wanna do something else.”

Archie’s heart starts to beat faster. Besides Jughead, Kevin is his oldest friend, but he can barely recognize him right now. “Kev. The band… This is our dream, man. Ever since we were stupid kids in high school, this is all we’ve ever—”

Kevin lets out a wet chuckle, but then he shakes his head. “It’s different now. It’s not the same. It’s not what I wanted. I’m— I’m exhausted, Archie. With Moose, I could feel like the band was my home, but—”

“You can't quit the band because of Moose!” Archie hears the desperation in his own voice.

“Look, I know that the band is everything for you and that you never put anything first, but—” Kevin heaves out a breath. “I can’t do it anymore, man. I’m sorry.”

Archie waits three weeks for Kevin to change his mind, but it doesn’t happen. Shortly after that, Moose says he needs to move on as well.

Archie and Munroe are the only ones left. Mad Dog gives interviews to radios and music magazines, explaining the uncertainty of the situation. He pushes Archie into thinking about finding another vocalist and bassist; maybe _ Archie _could sing since his voice isn’t bad.

But Archie doesn’t want to sing. Archie doesn’t sing. _ Kevin _sings. Moose plays the bass, Munroe the drums. That’s how it was supposed to be, how the dream should’ve gone. He feels so betrayed and abandoned. Everything they worked for, everything he had to give up, _ gone_. Nothing ever happened overnight for them except the way they fell apart.

Elio doesn’t even _apologize _for breaking them up, and Archie feels so _fucking angry _at him that he loses it — the day Elio comes to announce that he’ll be postponing the tour until they have things figured out, Archie ends up breaking his nose. That’s how they lose their manager, too.

It feels pointless to fight, and the Kazoos are over, after that. On a Wednesday, Mad Dog gives Archie a hug and pats his face before hopping on a plane. He found a spot as a drummer in some other band, and Archie never tells him not to go.

Archie stays in Los Angeles for another two weeks before he gathers the courage to call his parents and ask if he can come home for a while.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” is what his dad says.

His childhood bedroom is the same — teal walls with band posters all over them, something for him to look up to. The only difference is that his mom has hung three more things — the artwork for The Kazoos' two albums and a draft of a song he was writing a long time ago.

Archie knows he’ll have royalty money for a while, and that he can find an apartment soon. He’s not particularly worried about his financial future, but what is he going to do, now that the band is over? He’s never learned anything else. He never wanted anything else. The band was his first love, his biggest one if he doesn't count Veronica.

He stares at the lyrics on the wall, swallowing the lump in his throat. Of course, lyrics he wrote _about _ Veronica.

Another thing he’s given up for nothing.

When the band signed their first album, Archie knew that things would be different. That he would have virtually no time to offer her, that he wouldn’t be able to give her the attention that she deserved. He remembers spending a week wanting to call her to say that he loved her, but ultimately calling to say that maybe it would be better if they didn't try.

She didn’t object until she did — they kept in touch for a while, and then, one fine day, she asked him not to text her anymore. It would be better this way, better if they could fully move on.

Archie didn’t even think he had a choice, back then. Missing her _was _unbearable, so he understood. He just agreed to it and wrote a song about it, _ saying you’d wait for me to stay, I know it hurts you… _ The song was a hit, but he doesn’t think she ever listened to it.

Taking the cover art and lyrics off the wall, Archie takes a deep breath. All good things come to an end.

* * *

**( 30 )**

_ I can’t wait to see you shine, but _ _  
_ _ I can wait for you if all you need is time_

Jughead flies to Chicago a little before Archie’s birthday, but it’s not only to spend it with him: he actually has work in the city, a fashion photoshoot at Millennium Park. He seems to be waiting for the stylists to fight over a headpiece on one of the models when Archie comes to meet him.

“It’s good to see you, Arch.” Jughead hugs him tightly, and it’s nice. Ever since Archie came back from Los Angeles — about a year, now — things have been really lonely. He doesn't have any remaining friends or the _will _to go out and make some. He’s been living a quiet life, trying to compose and failing most of the time, thinking about his next step.

“Likewise, man,” Archie says. “How’s Toni?”

A familiar smile appears on Jughead’s face. He and the pink-haired-girl he’s been dating since college have some sort of open relationship that Archie doesn’t pretend to understand, even if he’s lived amongst musicians for _years_, but it seems to work for Jughead. “She’s alright. She’s going to photograph some politicians on the Fourth of July, so she had to stay in New York. I’ll be done here in a bit, then we can grab a beer at the Pier. What do you say?”

Archie watches the models pose for Jughead’s lens, the bright summer sun making the sequins and pearls on their clothes sparkle. A couple of them give him _a look _ — maybe flirting, maybe recognizing him. It’s something he’s finally learned to pick up, now that he’s about to be _thirty _— but he doesn’t really entertain them.

The shoot is for a brand called _ Apollonia_; Archie learns as he hangs around the set. The name isn’t strange, but he can’t pinpoint where he’s seen it before. He likes the style of the clothes, likes how the models are different between themselves; the whole experience is appealing.

Once Jughead’s work is done, they walk together up the lake shore, heading to Navy Pier. Sitting at a bar and drinking a beer, Jughead tells him about the city and his relationship, about his sister who's on her way to graduate as an engineer, amongst other things. Then, he asks Archie about what happened with Kevin and the band, about what’s going to happen from now on.

Archie sighs. He took a year off to figure it out, but the truth is, he’s got nothing. “I might sell my songs to someone who wants them. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just go back to school like Kevin did.”

Jughead narrows his eyes. “School for what? You’re crazy talented. You write your own lyrics. You play, and you can sing—”

“—I can’t sing. Kevin can sing. I just—”

“You _can _sing. You should maybe try a solo career, you know? Go all Paul Simon on them.”

Archie feels a smile tugging at his lips, his gaze suddenly a bit distant. “Or Bon Jovi.”

Jughead makes a face. “Sure, if that’s your thing.”

Archie chortles, but it soon fades away. “I don’t know, Jug. The band was my dream, you know. I never thought I’d have to figure out what else to do with my life because I already knew it. And now…”

“Arch,” Jughead says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Look around you, man. _This_ is your life. Right now. It won’t wait for you to get back on your feet, you know? You just gotta live it. The band can’t be the only dream you’ve ever had.”

Veronica places little Paulie in the crib, brushing away her soft dark hair from her forehead. Feeding time was a success, and now she can only hope that nap time is one too. “Time to rest, baby girl.” She smiles down at the baby as she chews on a toy, big, brown, sleepy eyes looking up at her.

She’s about to head back to the living room when the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar comes from the courtyard, getting louder. Veronica frowns — it doesn’t sound like someone is listening to the radio way too loudly, but like someone is _playing _the guitar outside.

Curious, she opens her front door and steps outside to see what’s going on. Veronica feels the air get sucked out of her lungs when she sees _him_, her Archie Andrews, in the middle of her patio, guitar plugged in a little amplifier that's taking care of the noise. He’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, looking a lot like the boy she met in an airport so many years ago, even though he has the features of a man now.

It’s been five years. Five fucking years.

“Oh, my God,” she whispers, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, her heart beating fast. The intro he’s playing sounds familiar. He looks up at her and back down again, and sucks in a breath before he starts singing.

“_I guess this time you’re really leaving… I heard your suitcase say goodbye._”

“Archie,” she lets out with the air in her lungs, but he shakes his head, swallowing hard.

“Please, don’t say anything, or I’ll lose my nerve.” He _does _sound really nervous, nothing like a man who played for crowds. He couldn’t even leave his eyes on her for too long. “Just let me do this.”

Veronica bites the inside of her mouth, and Archie continues to play.

_ “As my broken heart lies beating, you say true love is suicide._”

He looks at her again, and Veronica ends up smiling, because she missed him so much. It seems to encourage him, because the next note that comes out of his mouth is higher, more confident. He sounds really good. He _ looks _really good.

“_You said you cried a thousand rivers, and now you’re swimming for the shore… You left me drowning in my tears, and you won’t save me anymore…_”

Somewhere, there is quiet laughter. Veronica doesn’t need to look around to realize that most of her neighbors have come out of their houses to watch the little show going on in the courtyard. It makes Veronica giggle too, and somehow Archie smiles, stopping for a second so he can open his arms and sing even higher.

“_Now I’m praying to God, you’ll give me one more chance, girl!_”

She laughs, overcome with emotion, and Archie goes back to the guitar, that adorable blush all over his face, making him look like a young boy again. Veronica sees his smile and feels hers fade away, her chest beginning to feel tight as she realizes what this really means.

Archie continues to sing. If he notices the shift in her demeanor, he doesn’t let it show.

“_I’ll be there for you, these five words I swear to you. When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you… I’ll be there for you! I’ll live and I’ll die for you. I’ll steal the sun from the sky for you. Words can’t say what love can do, I’ll be there for you…_”

She smiles again when he plays the last note. There’s applause coming from the unexpected crowd that watched him, some more enthusiastic than others. Veronica wonders if anyone recognizes him and his flaming red hair, if this is going to end up on Youtube in a few minutes.

But then, she looks at Archie, and all the neighbors just disappear even if they're still there. He’s all flushed, chest rising fast as he catches his breath, lips pressed together in a thin line. 

"It's Bon Jovi."

She doesn’t know what to do with the feeling blooming inside her.

“Archie…” she tries again.

“Ronnie,” he interrupts. He sounds determined, even though his eyes are welling up. “The band is over. I have no idea where I’m going from here. Everything I worked for was in vain, and I thought that all my dreams were gone. But there’s one dream that I can’t give up on just yet.” He stares at her deeply, and Veronica chews on her lower lip. “I know that I’m probably a decade too late, but… would you give me _strike one_ back?”

Veronica feels her own eyes filling up. She can’t believe this is happening. So many times, she _dreamt _about a moment like this, cheesy and stupid just like this. She anticipated him coming back and trying to sweep her off her feet. But now…

Archie stops for a second.

“You’re married.”

Veronica shakes her head, letting out a bitter laugh. 

“I’m engaged.”

He follows her into her living room, the one that he’s been in a few times. It’s changed — no more fabrics lying around or sewing machines. Instead, there’s a bunch of baby toys that make Archie’s heart drop.

“I’m babysitting for Cheryl and Sheila,” Veronica explains, quickly. It brings back some air into Archie’s lungs, but he still can’t breathe properly. At least there aren't any kids involved. “I’m just gonna check on the baby, and then I’ll be back.”

He watches her walk into one of the bedrooms and lets himself fall apart for _one second_. His eyes are burning, so he rubs them with the heels of his hands, drying unfallen tears.

Of course_. Of course,_ he's too late. He doesn’t know how he thought this could’ve gone a different way.

On Veronica’s wall, there are framed pictures. Pictures of her and her _fiancé_, some good-looking dude who’s in various moments of her life — pictures of vacations and dinners, moments they’ve shared in the past… who knows how many years. Moments that Archie _knows _could’ve been _theirs_ if he hadn’t walked away. 

One big romantic gesture couldn't possibly change everything. He should've known.

Veronica comes back quickly, and Archie takes a moment to watch her, to really look at her, memorizing her face. She looks more beautiful than ever. She’s always been so breathtakingly beautiful, but it’s like she’s grown into herself now, like she knows _exactly _how amazing she is, how good she looks, how she affects the people around her.

He’s not sure if his heart is still beating.

She treads careful steps towards him, stopping at an arm's-length. Archie had seen, while he sang, how her smile was fading away little by little. He didn’t let it stop him.

He hates that he made her sad. He hates that he didn’t choose her when he had the chance.

“How… How long?” he finds the courage to ask, nodding at the pictures with the guy. Veronica breathes in before answering.

“We’ve been dating for a little over a year, but… he proposed a couple of months ago.”

Archie nods, swallowing hard. He tries not to look at her face — it hurts — but he can’t help it. “Are you happy?” He feels like he needs to know. If she _is_, if she’s happy, that’s enough for him. If there's someone else making her smile after he walked away, he won't fight.

Veronica gives a small shrug before nodding. 

Well, this is it, then. 

“I’m so sorry, Archiekins.”

He shakes his head, stopping her. “Please, don’t be sorry. I’m just glad that you’re happy and that now I won’t be an old man wondering _ what if._”

Veronica’s eyes are so soft and so beautiful. Archie bites his lip when she reaches out to touch his wrist. The touch of her hand makes it even harder to breathe, but he decides he’ll say goodbye properly, letting her pull him into a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, nuzzling her face against his neck. Archie closes his eyes when he breathes in her perfume.

He misses her. He _craves _her. No one could ever fill her shoes after what happened, and he didn't even try with anyone else, not for real. In his heart and in his head, he thought that maybe one day, they'd be at the right place and right time, because _what's yours is supposed to come back to you. _But now...

Now, Archie just holds her close.

Veronica is in the kitchen at Chuck’s house, the house they’re supposed to share in a few months — if she ever agrees on a date. Outside, in the backyard, Chuck and his younger brother are engaging in conversation. Veronica watches him smile. It’s always been her favorite trait of his.

She looks down at the engagement ring on her finger.

_ This is wrong_, she thinks, but she doesn’t know what she means. What’s wrong? The house? The ring? The fact that ever since Archie Andrews sang a Bon Jovi song to her in her courtyard, almost four months ago, looking every bit like an offering from fate, she dreads that every day will be the day that she _will _cave in and run after him?

Veronica knows that, realistically, things don't work that way. She’s always had to fight hard for everything in her life and knows that fate is just a fantasy. She doesn’t believe in this kind of fairytale ending. What happens after the credits roll is what’s important.

Plus, it’s not like Chuck is just a guy that she can discard. He’s been good to her. He’s probably the nicest guy she’s ever met. He treats her right, cherishes her, and, above all, he wants to be with her for the rest of his life; he _chose _her.

Even if she _did _decide to let it all go, what do she and Archie have? One day every four years like a World Cup final? Chuck’s real. Palpable. He’s not a dream, a figment of her imagination, a big fat _maybe. _He’s steady. Steady guy, steady job, steady plans.

_ This is wrong_, Veronica thinks again.

That night, Veronica lights up a cigarette for the first time in God knows how many years. She smokes it slowly, dragging it out, and it gets her thinking about what the doctors said to her once — that she’d always want it, even after quitting. That it would be in the back of her head the entire time for the rest of her life.

Chuck wakes up for some reason, finds her outside. “Tough night?” he asks, because he knows that she only does this nowadays during _really _hard situations. He _knows _her, daily her, knows her better than Archie ever did, but does he really? Was she ever truly herself around him?

Was she ever truly herself after that night in Two Rivers?

Veronica looks at him. She does love him, but the thought comes creeping in again.

_ This is wrong._

“Chuck,” she says, not knowing how to go on.

He looks like _he _knows, though.

Alone with his acoustic guitar, Archie feels like someone else entirely.

It was never his plan to take over a stage by himself or to sing the lyrics he spent late hours writing. There _is _a small band, but they’re going to be in the background and not by his side, adding beats here and there. But even with the support behind him, this is going to be just _him,_ Archie Andrews, presenting his solo EP to a small but enthusiastic audience.

He’s proud of the eight new songs he wrote all by himself, proud of the arrangements he made for them, proud that the tickets are sold out. But he’s still a little nervous: the venue isn’t that big, but it isn’t so small either.

This concert is the start of something new. He can feel it.

There are still a couple of hours to go, and they’re sound-checking everything. Someone stuck a setlist on the stage’s floor. He’s going to sing six songs from the solo EP, the one he named _ Onyx_, intercalated with six of The Kazoos' greatest hits, including an acoustic version of 11:11, their first success.

“Check… One, two…” Archie speaks into the microphone, his own voice reverberating through the hall. “Eugene, could you lower the volume, please? Check… One, two…”

“Archie,” a girl that works at production interrupts him when he starts strumming his guitar, “I’m sorry. There’s someone here who wants to see you. I told her we don’t allow fans in, but she says it’s important.”

Archie knits his eyebrows together. Most of this crew is new and has never worked with him before, so they don’t know the names of people close to him. Wondering who it could be, he sets his guitar down. “Okay, we’ll take five.”

Following the girl to the back door, Archie asks if she asked for the waiting person’s name.

“Yeah,” the girl says, looking apologetic for forgetting to say that before. The thing is, she’s already opening the door when she answers the question, and Archie is knocked down by the cold breeze _and _the name she gives him. “Veronica Lodge.”

When he steps outside, Veronica has her back turned to him, waves of jet-black hair falling down her shoulders. She’s wearing black too, skin-tight leather pants, high-heeled boots.

Archie lets his gaze fall on her figure. It’s been six months since she hugged him goodbye in her living room after that embarrassing moment in front of her neighbors.

“Hey,” he calls, making her turn around. His heart burns a hole inside his chest when he sees her face. Fuck, he loves her. He didn’t even _try _to get over her yet, and he feels pain behind his eyes.

“Hi,” Veronica says, her voice small.

There must be a reason why she’s here, he figures.

For a little while after the serenade-that-went-wrong, Archie imagined if he’d bump into her somewhere in the city, if fate would work with him again. He dumbly expected her to call or text, even if she hadn’t done it for years. She didn’t, of course, and he ended up spending the entire time writing lyrics, sometimes half-inebriated. They all circumnavigated around the same themes — _ Too late. Waiting. You. _

Her. The love of his life.

“I heard about your concert,” she says when she brings a hand to her neck. Archie breathes faster, smiling a little.

“Yeah. Something I’m going to try.” He scratches the back of his head. If he was braver like he had once been, he would tell her that every single song is about her. But, then again, she’s probably _married _now. “How’s… how’s everything?”

“Everything’s fine.” She keeps rubbing her neck, and there’s a beautiful flush on her collarbones, across the two little moles he once had the chance to kiss. Archie clenches his jaw. When he looks up at her face, he frowns, realizing that the corners of her eyes are getting red and shiny. “I… called off my engagement, two months ago. It felt like the right thing to do, after…”

Archie feels his lips parting with surprise as she steals the air out of his lungs. 

_ What_?

“Then, I didn’t know if I should come to you,” Veronica keeps talking, her eyes brighter and brighter with every word she struggles to say. “I was afraid to do so because I have never… _Felt_…” she stops, inhaling as a tear falls from her eyes. Archie can’t feel his hands. “And I couldn’t come to you before, even if I wanted to, because I didn’t have your number anymore, and I never learned where you lived, or anything,” she scoffs. “So, I thought… _Okay, destiny, prove me wrong._ _If it’s meant to be…_”

“Ronnie.”

She lifts up a hand, asking him to stop. “And then, just this morning, I had a meeting with the photographer from my brand, Jughead Jones?” Archie swallows hard. _ Apollonia._ He remembers, now — it’s her mother’s middle name. “And he mentioned he’d go to this gig tonight, for his childhood best friend… A former guitarist from The Kazoos.” She dries the tears that are falling freely down her face now. “I’m scared as fuck that you’re going to tell me I’m too late, but—”

Archie shakes his head, not wasting a second. He breaks the distance between them, taking her face in his hands, and he kisses her. He kisses her with all his might, kisses her like he should’ve done before, trying to pour all the love he feels for her, everything he’s _always _felt for her. She was _it _for him from the moment he saw her, twelve years ago, smoking a cigarette at an airport. The day that changed his life.

Veronica sobs into his mouth but kisses him back, her hands in his hair, and he pulls her closer and closer until he lifts her off her feet. He hauls her against him, and she giggles, breaking the kiss as she wraps her legs around his waist. “You’re not too late,” Archie answers, breathless, his forehead touching hers. “I was waiting for you.”

She kisses him again, her tongue slipping into his mouth, making a shiver come up his spine. _ I love you;_ Archie says repeatedly with his mind because he doesn’t want to stop kissing her. _ I love you, only you. I love you. _

Veronica smiles against his lips. “Archiekins,” she breathes. There are tears on her face that he plans to kiss away. Her arms are around his neck, her legs around his waist, and he’s never going to let her go again.

He opens his eyes to look into hers. “Ronnie…”

_ I love you. _

“Don’t ruin it,” she whispers, before kissing him again.

** _the end_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this one, except that our babies deserved to be featured in an actual romcom 😍 To be honest this is a lot shorter than everything I'm used to write and I would have loved to add more to this fic, but I'm pleased with how it ended. The movie is iconic and so are Varchie. 
> 
> Anyway, I am also super pleased with all the love and support this little one got. I don't have much time to answer your comments right now but know that they mean everything to me and that because of all the feedback and support I am always eager to write all the different versions of Archie and Veronica falling in love over and over. Without further do, the super important playlist for this final installment:
> 
>   * Aqualung - Brighter than Sunshine (theme for the movie and one of my favorite songs ever!)
>   * The Arkells - 11:11 (the first Kazoos success and also such a fan song. The lyrics just screamed Varchie to me, especially when he says something about a girl named *Lonnie* lol. Also I wanted the Kazoos to be this kind of indie rock band so the Arkells were perfect for that)
>   * The Arkells - My Heart's Always Yours (same)
>   * The Killers - Mr. Brightside (the iconic song they sing in the car)
>   * Incubus - Wish You Were Here (mentioned in the lake shore scene)
>   * Jet - Look What You've Done (beggining of 28)
>   * One Republic - (time to) Start Again (second EP song)
>   * Groove Armada - Hands of Time (beggining of 29 and one of my favorite songs ever)
>   * Stereophonics - Maybe Tomorrow (whole 29-30 vibe)
>   * Cigarettes After Sex - Cry (one of the songs Archie mentions writing)
>   * Butch Walker - Maybe It's Just Me (beggining of 30)
>   * Bon Jovi - I'll Be There For You (the star of this show... The song that Archie serenaded lol)
>   * Isaiah - It's Gotta Be You (ending scene theme)


End file.
